WEEK 1

[strangerpeople]

WEEK 1

[The train wouldn't stop. Not until very early the next morning. The few who might have been awake would be able to exit the train, entering the cool twilight of the dawn. The star is dark, and few stars can be seen in the sky as a cold breeze begins to blow from the mountain beyond. You can see some chunks of rock floating idly nearby, far away from the station that it won't hit trains, but near enough that one can see they are larger than the train they just disembarked.

Lastly, laid out in front of them, the first port of call: Menahoven. The mountain: The Throat of the World.

But which world? Who knows. Not any of yours. Maybe it doesn't matter. Not when you are so far from home. Not when you have no way to get off this rock without the aid of the trains-and they will not let you pass.

It looks like you're stuck here until the Conductor decides to leave. In the meantime, everyone will need to get comfortable.


There are fifteen strangers left in this place.]

Comments

[awitchdidit]

Does that make you a knight as well, or is it not that kind of organization?

[otherworldlyking]

Ouroboros isn't that kind of organization - there's other knights that're a part of it too, but that's just them deciding to join more than anything.

[awitchdidit]

And what does Ouroboros do, then? Or would you have to kill me if you told me?

[It does sound like a cult and/or spy name, just saying.]

[otherworldlyking]

[ For a moment, his lips may have twitched upwards into a smirk. ]

Maybe. [ But hey he's not about to just blab everything. Still... ] Anyone else who's heard of it would just tell you that we go around raising hell.