Veils and Crossings (was: Shadow over Felthera) - StalkingBlue's Midnight game

[S'mon]

Ara Than's Story

Ara's mighty composite longbow thrummed happily in her hands as her squadron continued to pour fire into the unfortunate monsters that had tried to protect the impostor, Udon. What had the Ghostwalker - the Danisil - called them? Orcs? Apparently they were very strong, vicious creatures - strong but stupid, like the Dorns, only moreso. It was not wise to get too close. Lt Ara Zanir Than of the Sarcosan Imperial Guard grinned happily as seventy yards away her arrow took an orc through the throat. It leapt into the air, clutching amusingly at its fatal wound, then twisted and hit the dirt. The orcs were still moving forward, throwing their little javelins. The plain behind them was black now with orc corpses, more than two dozen and further off the pincushioned bodies of their human masters, the Legates, heavy-armoured men lying next to their slain mounts.
What the enemy lacked in ability, they certainly made up for in enthusiasm. Their javelins appeared to have an effective range of about fifty yards. Several were getting close again. Ara trotted Star back sixty feet, in line with her squadron, and loosed another arrow. The orc ranks were thinning now, more than half the creatures dead. The survivors were scuttling around, taking javelins from their fallen comrades, flinging them angrily at the Sarcosan Guardsmen who remained so tantalisingly out of reach. It was a good thing Ara had ordered the extra quivers before they passed through the Gate, though, or they 'd have been out of ammunition before the last orc fell.
Ara glanced to her new companions, Pallas, who had been of the Court Guard at A'Hamra, and the Ghostwalker, now Danisil, Apari by name. They were following her lead, apparently surprised by the ease with which the enemy had fallen before her. It was certainly better than chasing elves in the forest… Another orc fell, four arrows sprouting from his chest, three more in his shield. Ara wondered idly how such pathetic creatures could ever have conquered the world. Clearly they had not had true Sarcosans to contend with. Ara noticed that the fallen orc was getting up again, apparently undiscouraged by the arrow through its throat. Sergeant Jaru muttered a curse - Ara frowned; Apari and Pallas had warned her about this, how fallen enemies and friends would arise as flesh-hungry Fell. Ara was relieved to see two of the orc-Fell's former comrades fall upon it, Vardatches hacking angrily at the walking corpse. An arm went off, then half a leg. Ara fancied she could see an aggrieved expression on its bestial face as it went down again, this time for good.

Starry Mother, don't let me end up like that…

"Aah!"

Ara glanced to the side, down the line, and was surprised to see young Private Aren, newest man in the squadron, clutching a javelin protruding from his chain-armoured side. Somehow an orc had run forward and thrown the shaft more than sixty yards…

Even these creatures should not be underestimated.

She could see the culprit - a huge, coal-black orc with spiked shoulder-guards - well ahead of its companions, yelling joyously as it realised it had wounded one of its hated tormentors. It seemed oblivious to the two Sarcosan arrows protruded from the heavy scale armour it wore.

"That one! Drop it now!" Sergeant Jaru was yelling angrily.

A dozen battle-bows thrummed, and six more arrows thudded into the orc. It was still grinning as it died. Aren grunted in pain as he pulled the the javelin out from his armoured flank - flung at extreme range, it hadn't gone too far in. Just a flesh wound.
The remaining dozen orcs were coming up, howling words of defiance in their guttural tongue. The Sarcosans fell back again, still firing. Fire and maneuver, fire and maneuver. The orcs were doomed, and they knew it. Yet they didn't give in.

There is a lesson for us all…

Ara smirked.

In a minute the last orc would be dead and her squadron could start to gather up the spent arrows. Then she'd have a little time to catch her breath.

* * *

It had been an eventful two days. The vine-wrapped ruins where she'd first met Pallas and the Ghostwalker seemed far away now, as they were, in time if not in space…

Ara and a squad of soldiers had been searching for an elven spy in the old ruins, just east of Erethor. Something had washed over her, she felt, when the two strangers-not-strangers appeared just as she caught the spy. She'd felt it again today, at the Gate…

Ara had exchanged brief words with Pallas and the Ghostwalker as she tied the wounded elf to her horse. The spy was trying to return to Erethor. She had just mounted up when elven arrows started to rain down around her. An ambush - luckily she'd been able to withdraw, get back to al'Hamra minus three men, already murdered by the elves. Her search party that evening had found two bodies, the last man doubtless gone forever. In al'Hamra she'd received word from Uncle Arrenu her crazy old cousin Virrinu was coming from the seminary to be the Princess' Tale-Reader. Only the man with the wolf hadn't been Virrinu after all, but an impostor working for an evil force Pallas called the Whisperer. He'd tried to murder the real Virrinu, but her cousin had survived -mistaken for an assassin himself - and luckily Ara had been able to free him from the prison cells before it was too late. Virrinu seemed to know much that Ara didn't understand. The impostor's name was Udon. He'd murdered young Prince Daghu's tutor, wounded the Prince with his evil touch, and even tried to murder the Princess. Sabba the Cook had given her life as a decoy. Fortunately Prince Jaradin had arrived back at the fort, in time to set everything straight. Pallas had revealed himself as a skilled Healer, and had tended to young Daghu's sorcerous wound, inflicted as part of a plan to gain control of the young prince. Ara had commended the boy on his bravery.
The evil plot was now uncovered - in some part thanks to Ara herself - and the assassin exposed before he could strike again. He and his whisper-voiced demon that possessed Virrinu's wolf had been cornered in the al-Kallar crypt, but had somehow escaped, fled through a black crystal obelisk into another world, another time, to a city of the dead - the crystal showed a path there, as well as one to a forest that the Ghostwalker and Pallas said was their home. Udon had taken the al-Kallar Cup with him. Ara wanted to follow him immediately, but Pallas advised against it. Apparently Pallas and the Ghostwalker were familiar with this other time, a hellish future where evil ruled the Aryth. Virrinu had given Ara an amulet that let her pass through the gate - Pallas and Apari had them too. After discussion, Ara had realised that her horse could also pass through - and so could her men, if she linked them to her! So she'd volunteered to take her squadron through, kill the assassin and get the Cup back. The Prince was pleased, and Ara' heart swelled with pride as he commended her on her bravery and handed her his ring. So they'd entered the Gate - only fifteen of her men had made it through with her. Ara hoped the other nine had been left safely behind in her time, not sent somewhere else.

The city of the dead was al'Hamra - lying in ruins, thousands of years in the future. Luckily it was a bright sunny day, and apparently the dead were resting… the Ghostwalker, Apari, had changed then, into a little brown man with pointed ears. He looked a lot like an elf, in some ways. Apparently he was a Danisil - Ara made sure her men knew the difference before anyone shot him. Though Apari said that in this age the elves were on Humanity's side against the evil ones.

We shall see.

After an hour's trek through the ruins, Pallas telling her a little of this new world - he seemed strangely unfamiliar with the Sarcosan Empire, apparently A'Hamra lay beyond its current-time frontier - they came out onto the plains, and saw Udon some distance off, escorted by more than two-score of the ugly creatures called orcs and a dozen of the armoured wizards Pallas called Legates. A large force - odds more than three to one - but they were poorly equipped, without bows.

Ara had not hesitated to attack.

* * *

"Cease fire!"

The last orc had fallen, and showed no signing of re-animating. The tired Sarcosans holstered their bows, drawing their Dornblades as they moved back in to dispatch any wounded. Lt Ara patted the well-wrapped cup, tied behind her saddle. That was what they'd came here for.

How long before we get back, though?

Pallas and Apari seemed happy, perhaps a little stupefied by the ease with which sixteen Sarcosan cavalry had annihilated this apparently much-feared foe. Ara grinned impishly as she spurred Star over to Pallas. She wasn't going to let him know that the Imperial Guards Cavalry Division of the Sarcosan Emperor was accounted the most feared fighting force on all Aryth, or that all their quivers were now more than half empty. The Guards' battle-manual said that after softening the enemy up with bow-fire, the Guards were to draw their Dornblades and charge - Imperial Guards traditionally spent far more time drilling with this difficult, straight-edged sword than they did with their longbows. But the orcs were fanatical, savage, and immensely strong. In truth, Ara had feared to commit her men in melee against even a single one of the creatures. But no need to mention that.

"So you see, easy enough. Perhaps you could attend to Private Aren there? He was careless, and has received a slight injury from an 'orc'. I thank you."

Ara flashed Pallas a smile, and turned quickly away.

 

[StalkingBlue]

[Pallas's account, by Pallas's player: ]

As Ara Zanir Than knelt by her cousin he whispered to her. I couldn’t make out everything he said. He talked about falling in love with the wrong woman, about the Whisperer in the North, about Ara beginning to understand. As he said that, he handed her a talisman of a polished stone, which looked the same as the one Apari and I wore. The old man knew about the Ghostworlds.

More shouting upstairs. Ara Than looked at us. Looked at Virinu lying on the dungeon floor. She seemed to make up her mind. Looking at us, she said:

“Can any of you help my cousin? Does any of you have any healing skill.”

This was the Ghostworld. Secrets were different. I stepped forward. Took a look at the old man. Took out some bandages. Then as I was bandaging him, I let him have some of my Light. It was powerful in this Ghostworld. His bruises disappeared, his breathing eased and he looked more alert. Ara looked relieved and thanked me.

A large squad of Imperial Guard came storming down the stairs. Ara moved forward. She recognised the man in front.

“Sargeant Jaru, there has been terrible treachery. This man is my cousin Virinu. The man upstairs is an impostor. I don’t know what his plans are but they must be evil. There is no time to lose. We must apprehend him. We should also take these two men. They have expertise in these matters. Especially the Ghostwalker.”

Jaru looked non-plussed.

“We were told to secure these two and lock them up.”

Jaru looked relieved. I think he was expecting to see a scene of carnage. Instead, things were calm. Ara was convincing. In the end, they came to a compromise. Apari and I would stay in the cell with Virinu, being supervised by a squad of Imperial Guard under Corporal Malvin. She would take the rest of the men to hunt for the false Virinu. We were not disarmed.

Apari and I stayed in the cell. Apari talked a little with Virinu. Virinu called him Endikyn. Then the elf in the neighbouring cell started whispering to Apari. I didn’t understand what he said. A little time later, there was a blast of trumpets. The young Pallas knew that that meant that someone important was arriving. Possibly the Prince-General himself. We waited some more. Finally, Ara came back with the other men. She hadn’t found the impostor but the Prince General wanted to see us. Ara looked a little apprehensive.

We were taken to the Tower. Just before our audience, Virinu was taken away by some servants and cleaned up. He was accompanied by the ever-vigilant Ara. Apari and I were disarmed. Then we entered the roof space of the Tower. There was a garden up there. Strange. I had never seen that before. Princess Meghna was there along with Prince Daghu and the Prince General Jaradin Al-Kallar. I looked at him. He was dead only he didn’t know it yet. In a few years time, he would be assassinated on the eve of the Battle of Pelthurin, which would seal the Sarcosan defeat against the elves.

With prompting, Ara told her story. The Prince-General did not look completely convinced. I looked at Prince Daghu. His arm was still bandaged. Then I quietly asked if I could look at Daghu’s arm. This was granted although Ara still kept a watchful eye on me. I don’t think she fully trusted me. I didn’t blame her. So I approached the Prince, who looked apprehensive. I took his bandage off. That revealed an ugly wound, with blackened edges. As I examined it, the young Pallas almost took over. His personality surged forward almost overwhelming mine. This was what he had been born for. His legendary empathy for with the young Prince sprang into being. The Silent, the Faithful, the Hound. I remembered all those names. Names which would become synonymous with the young Pallas. Very quietly, intimately, he began talking to Daghu, asking him about the wound. The prince was very scared.

“ He said he would come back. He said if I said anything he would rip my heart out. He said I musn’t tell anyone.”

The young Pallas slowly gained the Prince’s confidence. He promised that he would always be there to protect him. That if he came back, then Pallas would be there to protect him and would rip his heart out first. Daghu told his story.

“ It was night. I saw a cloud of mist come under the door. Then he appeared. He opened the door and let the wolf in. I hid behind the curtain. He moved and touched my tutor as he lay asleep. My tutor convulsed and I knew he was dead. Then the wolf found me so I had to come out. That was when he told me that I was to tell no one or I would have my heart ripped out like my tutor. Nothing would stop him. I’ve been really scared. Things are really nasty; and just now, I heard mother and father shouting at each other. They stopped quickly though.”

With a little coaxing, Daghu was convinced to relate his story to the Prince General. He looked a little condescending and sceptical at first but his expression changed to one of grimness as he heard the story. Then there was an interruption. An Imperial Guard entered the room and urgently whispered into the Prince-General’s ear. The Prince turned to us. The impostor had stolen the Imperial Cup and the keys to the crypt. The young Pallas knew that the Imperial Cup was one of the most precious objects associated with the line of the Prince General. Losing it was the same as losing a member of his family. Then screams. Something was happening in the crypt. Ara, Apari and I rushed out, picking up our weapons on the way. We reached the crypt and ran down the stairs. In the darkness ahead, we saw a white moving light. Running between two rows of sarcophagi, we chased it. Finally we caught it. I saw the impostor. His wolf was next to him. The wolf charged the others. The impostor was next to a wall, holding a scroll, seemingly drawing something on the rock. I charged him. I swung and missed in the darkness. He stepped through the wall. Only it wasn’t a wall. It was a large crystal, embedded into the wall. Multifaceted. I saw him briefly inside it. I saw other things in the crystal faces: the ruins of a town full of Fell. A strange green surface. Others, more difficult to discern. I hit the stone. Sparks flew but it was unscratched. A sudden thought occurred to me. I took out my talisman and tried to put my arm through the crystal. It went through as if through water. I took my arm out. The others had seen this. Apari was staring at the thing that had been drawn on the wall. It was painted in a black oily substance. Apari rubbed it off the wall. Then Ara took her talisman and linked arms with one of her men. They were both able to go through the crystal.

We went back to report to the Prince General. As we left, I glanced at the corpse of the wolf. I was uneasy. I hadn’t seen the mage-hunter. Apari and I had both assumed that it had been possessing the body of the wolf.

At the Queen’s Tower, we saw that the real Virinu, although crippled, had charmed the Princess Meghna. He also revealed that the impostor told him his name was Udon.

We were then told that Sabba the cook, had been killed while she had been sleeping in the Princess’s bed. Udon had killed her thinking she was the Princess. I began to see some things.

Daghu’s tutor had been killed while there was an elven spy in the vicinity. The elf was blamed. Udon, masquerading as Virinu, a holy man, joined the retinue of the Princess. He convinced the princess that he would make a good tutor for Prince Daghu. Then the Princess would mysteriously die in the same way as the tutor. The elves are blamed again. Udon is left in a powerful position through which he can influence the young Prince. Clever, clever Whisperer. We managed to partly spoil his plans but Udon still managed to steal the Imperial Cup.

We looked at Virinu but he was singing a strange song. We had to gamble. We thought that the strange green surface represented the forest of Erethor. It was most unlikely that Udon would go there. That left the ruined town with the Fell. A group on horseback should be able to outrun them. Looking at Virinu, I wondered just how mad the madman was. Where had he obtained the talisman? Who was Endikyn? I also wondered that if this Ghostworld was the so-called Second Age, and we recovered the Imperial Cup, just what significance that object had for the Sarcosans in my world which was the so-called Fourth Age? Things are very different in the Ghostworlds.

Ara volunteered herself and her platoon to go and rescue the Imperial Cup. The Prince General gave her his signet ring as a token for her courage.

Everyone made ready. Provisions, weapons, the rest. Then reluctant horses were led down the stairs into the crypt. As we were about to leave, Apari suddenly called out that he had to deal with something and disappeared for a few minutes. During this time, I explained to Ara some of the things that could be encountered upon changing Ghostworlds. Izrador, orcs, legates, mage hunters, elves, massive and utter defeat. Death and destruction, famine, disease and the Forest of Erethor. She tried to understand but the issue that elves were now allies was the most difficult one for her to grasp. Again we got ready to step through and this time there was another interruption. Prince Daghu came running down, demanding that I stay. I promised to protect him. That is true. The young Pallas did. His feelings about this are so strong that they almost overwhelm me. The young Pallas decides we will stay. Then he remembered that he himself will be gone for only a few seconds and then he would come back. He promises the Prince that he will be back in a few moments and Daghu accepts this. Finally, linking arms we step through.

This time it is a feeling as if we are stepping into liquid. Then we step through into the facet showing the ruined city. I feel the young Pallas separating from me. I am myself again. No ghosts this time. We stepped through into ruins. Apari steps through behind me then Ara and her men. Only fifteen out of twenty five. I don’t know what has happened to the others. They are probably dead. Apari starts tracking. No sign of Fell. Nearby we see remains of walls, and a pedestal with a ruined statue. There are dried bundles of flowers and wreaths at its foot. Strange. Ara and her men immediately form up in military ranks. They are well trained. We stay still, as we wait for Apari to come back. He does, excited. He has found some tracks. We mount up and follow them.

Soon we see a group in the distance. Horsemen with an infantry screen. One of the riders stands out. He is wearing light clothing. I am positive that is Udon. The others are all armoured. I can’t see for certain in this distance but I am sure many of the infantry are orcs. I warn Ara about them. Apari has been strangely reticent about telling Ara anything. As we ride, she deals with his appearance. She is relieved that he is not one of the “enemy” elves. Her men to take our change of appearance in their stride. They couldn’t see mine anyway as I wore my mask.

We caught up the riders quite quickly. The infantry deployed. There are about forty of them. As I suspected, they are orcs. However, I now see the Sarcosan tactics. Riding up they shoot and then ride back, out of reach of the orc javelins. They concentrated on the enemy cavalry, considering them the most dangerous. Enemy horsemen fall rapidly. This tactic is repeated until the Sarcosans shoot all the horses which Udon could have used to get away. It is deadly and effective. There is nothing the orcs can do. Every time they rush forward to engage, the Sarcosan just ride away. Then they just ride forward and fire their bows. It is very impressive. Orcs start falling. Udon also falls as his last horse is shot from under him. There are now only two more horsemen. Two clerics in black full plate. They ride forward and cast spells. Ara is suddenly paralysed but that doesn’t stop her men. They continue riding and shooting. The two figures fall under a hail of arrows.

Apari and I can ride forward, around the escort, to deal with Udon. Far behind us we see enemy reinforcement coming. Udon was ready for us. First he tried to make himself unseen but that didn’t fool Apari. Then he tried to use his death touch on Apari but that didn’t work. The warhorse and I hit him several times. Now he started to lose his arrogant pose. As a last desperate measure, he cast a blanket of mist around himself but as he did so, both the horse and I hit him. He fell. I took a bundle from his body, which contained the cup. He was still alive. I speculated if we could take him prisoner for the elves. He would have some vital information. My thoughts were already working. I didn’t know if the elves realised that the Shadow was aware of the Ghostworlds. It could come as a shock to them. We would see.

I looked around at what we could collect before we rode for Erethor.

 

[StalkingBlue]

Yup, new Story Hour title. Some time between the last month and now, we crossed over into what feels like a new chapter to the campaign. So...

I'm proud to present Part Two:

Veils and Crossings.

Apari Ghostwalker and Pallas Ellinor have travelled through the obsidian gatestone found in the princial crypt of A'Hamra early in the Second Age, and returned to their own Age and season together with Lt. Ara Than and half a squadron of Sarcosan mounted Imperial Guards. They have hunted down the impostor Udon and taken the Al-Kallar Imperial Cup off him, and killed a good-sized Hunt of orc infantry and some mounted legates while they were at it, with no casualties to their own side. Of the Dornish Lady Katrin Baden and her lover-bodyguard Tam Allin, who went with Apari and Pallas into the Veil but never joined them in the Second Age, there is still no sign.

At Pallas's suggestion, the group has tracked back to the ruins of A'Hamra to search for the gatestone, hoping that it will let Lt. Ara and her squadron return to her own Age and take the Imperial Cup back. Finding the right place has been easy. Accessing it, not so...

 

[StalkingBlue]

(Sorry for the delay, people. We skipped one session and lost our faithful chronicler. Here's a poor overworked GM's effort to fill the gap. )


The White City


It has been hours of fighting. In the thick of melee, Katrin takes an orc down with a wide slash and cleaves through into its neighbour. Pallas sends the head of one of his attackers flying. Overrun by orcs, Apari flicks his hands in an elaborate gesture and disappears from sight. Ara stands over an unconscious guardsman holding orcs off with narrowly controlled swings of her blade. Wave after wave ... they can't hold for much longer.

Then, like smoke on a surprised evening breeze, the orcs hordes flutter and disappear, leaving all of them standing in Hamra's white ruins: weapons in hand, trembling and wheezing with an afternoon of neverending exertion, but otherwise unharmed.

Shocked silence, slowly they start moving, orders are bellowed. Katrin looks around worried for Tam, who is not in sight.

They had been struggling to excavate just before noon, using ropes and horses. The banister of the stairway that used to lead down into the crypt juts tantalisingly out from the rubble. It is dusk now. Like clouds, large groups of black beings race towards the city ruins across the hills from the east and south-west.

"Death cannot sweeter be, sky cannot bluer be..."

Bells tinkle: a many-coloured jester's hat. A whirl of hat and hands and soles somersaults in among them. In this long-forsaken place, a jester? He gives his name as one: Jester. He taunts them, chatters, warns them to stop digging. Offers sanctuary and dinner.

"Only dead men dig here. Digger men go dead..."

Glances are thrown across shoulders, quick words exchanged. Can they still flee before the orc companies cut their retreat off? Impossible to tell. They decide to accept the Jester's invitation.

After a moment confusion at a seemingly solid wall (the Jester simply leaps through), the company follows into a half-ruined, half freshly-tunneled underground complex, into a wide cave where a long table is laid with jugs and ancient-looking goblets.

The company sits. Behind each chair, an armoured and armed man or woman coalesces quietly from the shadows and stands to pour rich red wine. The Jester insists that this Spectral Guard is friendly; companions of Lord Norden Cain, the last Steward of Greater Hamra who fell with him and took an oath to stay awake with him, forever alert to defend the remains of their city from the Shadow army's onslaught.

No food is offered by the spectral guardsmen. Above, orcs can be heard screaming and dying. The company unwraps its rations, the Jester sings his ditty. "Death cannot sweeter be, cannot be possibly..."

The Captain of the Guard, a quick, slim figure who the Jester claims can help the company gain access to the buried gatestone, enters and sits at the head of the table. Beneath the helmet the Captain's face is wrapped tightly in a Sarcosan sand veil.

There is an intercalation with Ara, who wants the Captain to drink with her; he doesn't. Trying to see the Al-Kallar signet ring on Ara's finger more closely, the Captain makes an impossibly quick gesture - Katrin gasps. Despite veil, helmet and armour she has recognised her one-time lover, the father of her late friend Zana, Lord Arrenu Than.

He is dead, of course.

And as it turns out, he remembers Katrin. "Is that why Tam isn't here with me?" she asks. Ah yes. If the Lady insists. At a snap of Lord Arrenu's gloved fingers, a bruised and furious Tam is brought and set free in front of her.

Lord Arrenu confirms what the Jester has told them. The Keeper Norden Cain still jealously guards the ruins of his city. He has shadow-wraiths under his control, things that the Shadow forces have sent to fight the undead resistance: he has bent the shadow-wraiths to his will ... Now if a living man makes a wrong move here, they will drain him of colour and life.

Arrenu offers to help, but wants the head of an enemy in exchange: a man by the name of Alander Everett. Ara flatly refuses. It is decided that the next morning, the company will return to the buried stairway and continue their excavation.

The night passes peacefully. The Jester, apparently now in a form that can travel through rock, time and again sticks his head out of cave walls happily aping the expressions of sleepers. Pallas exchanges a friendly jester's pantomime with him during his watch.


The Jester and Lord Arrenu have not lied. The next day as the company starts digging in earnest, two of Ara's men are assaulted by shadows flitting between cracks in the rubble. Experiments with torches fail. When one of the recruits dies and turns into another flitting shadow, the company flees back underground through the illusory wall.

Ara threatens to have Arrenu shot if he won't order his Guard to dig immediately, without commitment from the company to help him with his revenge against Alander Everett. An unfortunate remark is dropped about Katrin's "undead boyfriend" that Katrin does her best to ignore and Tam is seen struggling with.

Katrin whispers to Arrenu that she will kill Alander Everett, for his sake. At Arrenu's signal, the Spectral Guard starts to excavate.

The digging will take a while, longer than the company can dare to stay in these ruins, with no fodder for almost twenty horses and shadow-wraiths lurking in the cracks waiting for any living man's wrong move. It is agreed that the Jester will contact one of the party in their dreams as and when they reach the gatestone. Meanwhile, the company decides to use an escape tunnel promised by the Jester and return to Erethor...

 

[MonsterMash]

Finally had the chance to read this as life has got a bit less hectic. Good story hour with so many of the players writing in character, and definitely increases my interest in the Midnight setting.