Entries tagged with *round 1

Entry tags:

!endgame,
*round 1

...THE BEGINNING

...THE BEGINNING

[Fifteen strangers were brought into the Depths to end the world, and they survived, with extra strangers along for the ride. Though the old world ended, creation itself has been preserved, and a new world has been born, shaped by the survivors. Portals to new worlds have been opened, and memories are slowly, but surely, returning.

And what better way is there to celebrate the beginning of a world, but with a spaghetti dinner?

Well, there was plenty of spaghetti, but some people thought that maybe there should be more than spaghetti. The Dragonborn did their best to make non-spaghetti food based on their memories of Tamrielic cuisine - being a cook themselves and cooking their own meals, even as an Emperor.

Spiced coffee with moon sugar and sweetmeat pasties in the shape of the moons, from Elweyr.

Imperial-style spiced sausage, braised in wine, and a tomato-flavored rye bread.

From Iliac Bay, a paprika-spiced rice dish with chicken and roasted peppers and a spiced banana mash in the style of Hammerfell.

From the Alik'r Deserts of Hammerfell, scorpion braised with venom sauce - which Alexis seems to like. It doesn't seem to be poisoned.

From Daggerfall, beet hummus, and stuffed dormice wrapped in bread like sandwiches.

From High Rock, Potage le Magnifique, with Alexis' special, not-lethal secret ingredient, and rock trout, along with fruit dumplings.

Lamb's bone broth with potato dumplings and vegetables, just like in the strongholds of the Orcs - with a dash of rice - and a dessert of carmelized beetroot.

Saltrice flatbreads and Telvanni-style mushroom medley with frost salts, from Morrowind.

Black Marsh King Yellow slug, served raw with some seasoning and wrapped in nut leaf. They are delicious, really.

Of course there is Skyrim's honey mead and blue cheese with honeyed oatcakes, along with horker and ash yam stew from Solstheim.

For now, it's time to relax, and celebrate the end - and beginning. Work can be done tomorrow. Questions can be answered later, if any are left. For now, eat, and enjoy. Bring your friends from home. Be happy, and remember.

There were 15 strangers.

But they are not strangers anymore.]

((OOC: Congratulations on ending Round 1 with the Golden End! For this feast, characters may bring people from their own canons to mingle with other players! Assume that portals have been opened for everyone by this time to go back and forth from their home worlds.

While you're here, please feel free to hit up the HMD, and we'll see you all when Round 2 happens!))

Entry tags:

!endgame,
*round 1

The End...

THE END...

[When the Titled wake up next, it's to void darkness.

There is nearly nothing left after what has happened, save for the blackness. Save for themselves, the Dragonborn and Serana as they hold each other, the Thalmor prisoner (who is clearly in shock), the body of the dragon they had attacked in the distance, the tower in the even further distance...

and an old man, sitting on nothing, clapping wildly.]

Bravo! Bravo!! Encore!! That was just amazing.

[Confetti starts to fill the air. It catches fire mid-way to the..ground. Whatever counts as ground now.]

Nothing like a good old world-ending riot, I always say! You all deserve an award for ending the universe as I knew it. Have some bread!

[Bread that looks like Papyrus' pops into their hands. It smells like chicken and god only knows what it tastes like.]

Go on, have a bite!

[This was probably not what anyone was expecting when the world ended.]

Entry tags:

FINAL TRIAL

FINAL TRIAL

[The doors at the other end of the city do not open for the Titled. However, whatever is going on in there still brings forth bright lights from within, and ultimately, it is to the steps of the entrance that everyone is drawn to. It's not the most formal setting for figuring out the truth of the matter before them.

Eric's brought the snacks, at least.

The Dragonborn sits at the top of the stairs, looking down as everyone congregates.]

...Having this key...I am certain I can open the door with little difficulty. But before I do we must make certain we know and understand exactly what we will be facing. What we are facing. These people...they are doing something and we must ensure we can somehow stop it.

[The end is near. The objectives of this quest are simple:

Who is the Mastermind? What is going on in this world? And...of course...why did the Mastermind want to kill 15 strangers?

Good luck, Titled.]

Entry tags:

FINAL INVESTIGATION

FINAL INVESTIGATION

[It is time.

The chill which had come from the now-open, unnumbered room has now begun to seep into the rest of the Depths. It seems to call to the Titled, beckoning them to come forward and to face whatever is now beyond that door.

Fie and Rubedo were right - that room was, indeed, the exit to the Depths. And at the end of the staircase is a door, which the Skeleton Key can very easily open. A few seconds later, the door at the top of the stairs opens.

And the city within the cave below is revealed to them, as they stand on a platform high above the ground.

The ruin still looks as new as it did the day it was built. The air here is cold mountain air, though the only light seems to come from one massive building carved into the very rock of the cave. There is nothing coming from the mouth of the cave save for snow.

On the door they just came through is a single parchment of paper which reads "LEINALZIND OUTER DISTRICT." Each building, they will find, is labelled similarly. Which means there is only one conclusion.

Welcome to the city of Leinalzind, Titled. And good luck, teams.

You will need it.]

Entry tags:

FINAL WEEK

FINAL WEEK

[Soon after, many of the figures lay dead. They bodies are splayed all over the stage. The female, however, seems to be gone.

Where did she go? What is she planning? It's unknown. But, soon after the Titled leave the Debate Hall, they are struck with a vivid vision. It is quick, but strong. Another dream, and this time, it is a waking dream.

Another memory. The Depths haven't been cleaned, either. The halls are silent, and no new doors seem to have opened. Yet deep down, you know. The end is near.

Its time to get ready. So, get ready, Titled.

There are seven strangers left.]

Entry tags:

THE THIRD TRIAL

THE THIRD TRIAL

[Once the final clues are found, the unsettling chimes sound three times again. However, the Debate Hall doors do not open for the Titled. At least, not for a moment or so.

When they do, though, and the Titled descend the stairs, they will find that the desks have been completely updated, up through the deaths of the previous night. It is...unsettling. Have they truly lost half their numbers in such a short time? But, what can they do about it?

The logs are on the desks, and the Intercessor finishes up the final touches of the evidence they made, placing it on the desks.

There is no chanting on the stage. The dragon, also, seems to be gone, leaving only traces of arms and legs and goo. So, the Intercessor simply goes and sits on the stairs, looking at the remaining survivors. They sound tired as they speak.]

All right. Everyone...do your best. Take your time, and...good luck.

[The trial of Raphtalia, the Dreamstrider, and Farkas, the Outcast, has begun.]

Entry tags:

THE THIRD VICTIM

THE THIRD VICTIM

[A week has passed. Food supply is starting to get low, despite the group's best efforts. It's only a matter of time before the food runs out or becomes more difficult to procure. Not to mention the trash that has been accumulating since the beginning of the week, with no one changing or cleaning it up. Not exactly the healthiest environment.

And, as the day dawns, there is - unfortunately - that very worrisome feeling that something is very, very wrong. It's quiet. Too quiet. The feeling of being watched has increased tenfold.

And there is a smell in the air, even above the garbage, as people step into the second floor hallway.]

Entry tags:

*round 1,
*week 4

WEEK 4

WEEK 4

[It is late in the afternoon when the Titled finally wake up from their long, vivid sleep. What day is it? Maybe it doesn't matter.

They weren't awake when it happened, but the final set of doors have opened. The Intercessor hasn't emerged from their room. There is no sign of the grumpy old man. And, the Titled may notice that nothing has been cleaned up - including the remains of those who prompted the Investigation - since they went into the Debate Hall. No new food has been supplied in the Kitchen, either.

The only replenishing food supply is in the Conservatex - who knows when those'll get ripped out from the ground out of spite, though. Their captors certainly showed themselves to not be above petty revenge, unfortunately.

So many questions now swirl. Is the old man hiding? Is the Intercessor ok? What the hell happened with the dragon? What about that other group which the Titled have come to realize exist? What did their captors have planned? And...really, what the hell else is going to happen now?

Whatever it is, it's not going to be good.

So get ready, Titled.

There are nine (but perhaps only eight?...) strangers in this place.]

Entry tags:

THE SECOND TRIAL

THE SECOND TRIAL

[The chimes don't announce the opening of the doors this time. Instead, the loud creaking of the doors to the Debate Hall echoing through the Depths are the only signal that the Titled are given. There is still the sense that they do not dare refuse to go.

There is, after all, two death to deal with, as the Intercessor's voice beckons.]

COME.

[This time, upon entering and taking their seats, two of the desks have been draped in black. No picture to commemorate the dead, no memorial of any kind - in fact, nothing at all save the black draping. It's like those in charge simply had no care to remember those two. It's likely the same befalls those who die this week, as well.

The chanting in the darkness on the stage is still present, and as before, the logs are folded neatly on the desk. Of course, this time, there is also an extra paper which seems to give a brief description of the evidence found.

Kindness? Or perhaps cruelty to dangle those things in front of the Titled? As the remaining Titled take their seats and the chanting stops, there is only one way to figure things out.

So, get ready, Titled.

The trial of Harley Quinn, the Deceiver, and Ai Haibara, The Dawn and Dusk, has begun.]

Entry tags:

The Second Victim

THE SECOND VICTIM

[It was getting unbearable. The illness, the stress, the threat of death, either by oneself or by another. The worry about finding a cure for a disease that, in this comparatively primitive world, might not even exist outside of the Depths.

However, on Friday morning - or what the Titled could at least conceive as Friday - all the Titled will wake up with the remnants of a very soothing sensation in their throats. Cool and at the same time almost burning, like someone had dropped liquid menthol down their throat while they were sleeping.

They will also find something else, especially if they had been infected: their perception of time is back to normal. Which means one of two things. One of the Titled actually managed to create the potion needed to cure the disease, or...the Titled might have an Inquisition looming on the horizon.

There is only one way to find out.

((OOC: Just a reminder that, due to the nature of the motive this week, there may be references to self-harm and suicide, along with other possible triggers, during this Inquisition, including during the Investigation, and that potentially triggering comments should (and comments by the mods will) be given a trigger heading on those comments.))]]

Entry tags:

*round 1,
*week 3

WEEK 3

WEEK 3

[It has begun. With the death of the Spinner and the execution of the Indulgent, they remaining Titled will be plagued once more by vivid dreams. And just as last week, they are awoken by the sounds of doors creaking open.

Just like last week. But no one had died last week. Right? No one had been subjected to that...thing.

And yet the strange, cold feeling of foreboding remains. And it is certainly most worrisome to those living in rooms 3, 4, 6, and 15. Those who pass by room 7 and 8 will feel that same, worrisome feeling of foreboding as well.

What will they wake up to find? Who knows, now. If dragons are real, anything is possible.

There are thirteen strangers in this place.]

Entry tags:

*round 1

Keep the ghosts in fond memory.

After all the...everything that that trial was, not to mention the horror of that execution - if it can even be called that, something uncomfortable has settled over the Depths. Two people are dead, and while nobody willingly broke the tenuous trust between the Titled to end a life, what actually happened may be worse. Even all the trust and companionship in the world can't protect them from tragic accidents caused by powers they don't understand.

But even so, it's not time to give up and drift apart yet. Yusuke spoke of trust and hope, and one person is determined to keep that alive. A couple hours after the execution, every living Titled (yes, even Eric) will find a note slipped under their door, in what some may consider familiar handwriting:

'Everyone is upset about what happened, but that's just more reason to not leave people alone. Come to the cafeteria, I've made enough food that everyone can have dinner together. You might not feel like eating after watching that, but we shouldn't just go to bed hungry.

- Rubedo'

The exception is McBurn, who just gets a sketch of the first floor of the Depths with the cafeteria circled and a doodle of a cooking pot and various food items in the middle.

When people get there, the entire room smells like vegetable stew courtesy of the communal pot in the kitchen. There's pitchers of water at all the tables, along with bowls of fruit and vegetables from the Conservatex. In one corner is a pile of thick, heavy cloth sheets - blankets for those who just want to huddle up in something warm. It might not be much, but it's there for everyone. That's the important part, right?

Entry tags:

THE FIRST TRIAL

THE FIRST TRIAL

[Soon after the final clue is found, there are three more loud, unsettling tonal clangs, all which go right to the bone. No matter where they are, the Titled will hear another, loud creak.

The set of doors on the left are slowly opening, revealing a long, long corridor, with a very long flight of stairs going upwards, just barely visible at the end of it.

The Intercessor's voice booms through the air and shakes the ground, sounding loud and clear no matter where the Titled might be standing at that moment.]

ENTER!

[The voice brooks no argument. As soon as everyone goes through the set of double doors, they close behind them. There is no choice, and no turning back. The Titled must go up the stairs at the end of the hall. They feel like they take forever, but when the stairs are finally traversed, there is a single door at the top, already open to them.

Welcome to the Debate Hall, Titled. Its the best-lit place you've seen, with gas lamps on the wall bright as possible. Its also the emptiest place they've ever seen so far - its massive and yet the Titled and the Intercessor are the only individuals to be seen in the entire area.

Seems, because there is faint chanting coming from the darkness behind that stage at the other end. There's no real way to hear what's being said, no matter how close you try to get. No way to check if there's even anyone on or behind the stage to make such chanting possible. The only person remotely close to the stage, standing on the stone steps, is the Intercessor.

There is also a faint rumble in the air, as if the world itself mourns the crime committed.

So. Take your seats at your stone desks to face one another as you debate. And yes, they are stone. Yes, they have stone chairs with which to sit in. And yes, your Title is on your assigned chair, etched in with chisel and hammer. Every desk also has a copy of the Writs with Orders 7 and 8 circled, and a copy of the autopsy file of the deceased on top of it; that is all the aid you will get from whoever brought you here. The rest, it seems, is up to the Titled, with what they have found.

Seats 7 and 8 are empty. Their copies of the rules and evidence lay untouched.

Once everyone has taken their seats, the strange, ominous chanting stops. Its time. Bound in blood, the death warrant has already been signed. The contract is complete. Its now just a question of finding the guilty party to fulfill the call for justice.

So, get ready, Titled.

The Inquisition of Laslow, the Spinner, has begun.]

Entry tags:

THE FIRST VICTIM

THE FIRST VICTIM

[Friday morning is quiet enough.

Everything seems to be normal, as before. Normal and boring, even with the strange things happening around the Depths. After all, no one's killed yet. Why would they? Surely something as ridiculous as a weird fruit and a fleeting promise wouldn't provoke anyone to kill to see if something like that was actually true, right?

Right?

Still, if anyone was worried, they would at least feel justified at being tense. People were told to kill another in return for the safety and life of a loved one, after all. And it included a way out for someone who succeeded in getting away with it. There may be someone more than willing to kill for that chance.

And that's when you don't consider the two empty rooms, one of which was opened and resulted in more strange things happening. And what happened last week? It hasn't been solved, has it? And no one expected that.

Perhaps it's a thought to look around to make sure there's nothing off this morning.

Certainly, it couldn't hurt.]

Entry tags:

*round 1,
*week 2

WEEK 2

WEEK 2

[As one week changes to the next, the Titled will find themselves having vivid dreams. Very vivid. Perhaps too real to only be dreams. Lost memories? Could it be, then, that those who brought you here did something to your minds along with your bodies?

Whatever the case, everyone, no matter how deep their sleep, are awoken to the sound of creaking, groaning metal coming from the first floor. When they do go to investigate, they will find something surprising.

The set of the doors on the right have opened.

Even the Intercessor seems stunned. It has been an odd weekend for everyone. After all, in between finding items seemingly popping out of mid air, and a bloodied statue that belongs to seemingly no one, its all very...strange.

Somehow, one gets the feeling that those strange items won't be the last they see. Indeed, after the doors open, there's the worrying, foreboding feeling coming back once more. And if those feelings are connected to the strange occurrence on Saturday...it can only mean one thing.

There's really only one way to find out if that's the case. The powers that brought you here certainly aren't going to give anyone a straight answer.

So, Titled: welcome to Week 2.

There are fifteen strangers in this place.]

((OoC: Welcome to Week 2! Remember to do your memory regains and your activity check!))

Entry tags:

*round 1,
*week 1

WEEK 1

WEEK 1

[Awaken.

Fifteen strangers have been gathered to the Depths.

When the strangers awaken, they will feel nauseous in their stomachs. No doubt confused. Maybe a little sick, Perhaps, even terrified. And certainly, there is a good reason for it - they are not where they were before. If they had powers back where they came from, they seem to be all gone. And it appears that someone has left...guidelines for them. All of them addressed to a specific Title.

Their Title. Somehow, each person knows, upon seeing this, this is their Title, even if it seems to make no sense whatsoever. And its clear that whoever wrote these things knew it as well. Who was it?

Its uncertain. So far, there seems to be no one else save for them, and those who dare to venture out of their rooms - save, for some reason, the individuals in rooms 1, 8 and 7 - in this hot and stuffy place. No...'intercessor' to be seen yet, certainly. No outward signs that there's anyone else aside from the people with 'Titles'.

So, Titled: welcome.

There are fifteen strangers in this place.]