MOD EVENT #001

[oblivium]

A CHAOTIC RESPITE

It isn't rare for the seasons in the Netherworld to be a little erratic, though many days have passed now without much of a hint of its typical mercuriality, a good and a bad omen all at once. This respite is commonly referred to as the proverbial "calm before the storm", but it also marks the beginning of merrier celebrations. The Moons above are gilded silver, the twilight sky edged with faint pink and orange -- a sunrise phantasm, spilling over the horizon. It's an infrequent spectacle, accompanied by a dulcet breeze and light drizzles that seem to encourage growth nearly everywhere. Unfortunately, under its influence, people seem a little on edge, quick to anger, but no matter; around Stygia, Restless have begun hanging decorations and ornaments on trees and windowsills, left to catch the moonlight and give off marigold and ginger glows, warmly lighting up the city. Rather than fish, the smell of freshly ground spices permeates the air in the Harbors, Mirth keeps its doors opened to all, but just before the festivities officially begin, a cacophony of chimes resounds all over, a transmission difficult to ignore.

On the screen of your cellphone, nothing; only a voice, ragged, out of breath...

“The woods... Oakwoods! They've come alive! O-One minute he was complaining about the water seeping into his boots, and the next he was... he was being yanked up into the trees! We didn’t see what happened to him, but we heard... the screams, ohh, the screams. Please! Come to Serene, I beg you. This is our safest sanctuary, and the lan... oh, no... wait, no, please... please... NOOO--”

...and the feed abruptly ends, a dull chirr of static. Will you ignore the stranger's call for help and feast, or venture into the woods?

► I. KNOCK ON WOOD (OH PUCK, HE'S HOT!)

When you cross the gates of Serene, an old woman welcomes you, palm flat against her chest and disquiet in her eyes. Myrtille, her name. Oakwoods loom dense and dark in the distance behind her, groaning low as leaves rustle without wind. The Mourning Lantern was stolen, and malevolence rose in turn, dooming them all.

“It was once kept here, a sacred Artifact crafted from the bones of Serene's first founder, who gave her heart’s blood willingly to the woods in an act of contrition. It's the absence of the lantern that is contributing to the wood’s unusually active malice, and if you lot cannot retrieve it, then we must sacrifice another. Go! Take these torches and go, before Oakwoods swallow us whole.”

So you've decided to be brave. Commendable, or foolish? The wood is dark and shrouded in mist, and the trees crowd around you, an absent wind somehow whispering foul nothings in your ear as dead leaves rustle around your feet. Your Shadow basks in the murmurs, sensing the malign presence in Oakwoods as a faint, garbled scream echoes in the distance. You wander deeper and the canopy thickens, thin streaks of moonlight peppering the woods in deep patches of darkness. Behind you, a creature you can't see hisses, and a fluttering of wings nearby alerts you to the arrival of snickering harpies lurking on branches. “Dead,” they croak, in a sing-song chorus. “Dead as daylight.” Oddly enough, they seem content to just watch and stalk you, perhaps expecting you to die quickly, an easy and effortless meal.

It's a frustrating errand if you've ever known one. You barely know what you're looking for, and your Shadow thrives in the dark, taunting, coaxing. You hear it then; a haunting melody, the silhouette of a boy on a fallen tree trunk, strumming. “Come,” he says, with a voice that shimmers like the sun on moving water. If you remember what that's like. “Rest a while. Forget your troubles.” For anyone familiar, you'll recognize him as a Puck, famous prankster, and from his hand dangles a lantern.

► If you attempt to take the lantern from him, he'll immediately drop it to the ground, causing it to break. You may choose to kill him and offer his blood to the woods, or let him go and bleed in his stead. Myrtille should be able to repair what's left of the lantern once the offering's been made.
► If you politely ask to return it, he promises that he will... if you indulge him for the night.

No matter what you choose, you will come across camps, either on your way in or on your way back: pitched tents, most moth-eaten, and some containing vestiges of prior expeditions such as putrid corpses or rotten food. You've been wandering for a while, and sleep sounds terribly inviting. Unfortunately, a wind finally picks up, and leaves begin to blow around you. A nick, then a cut, then a slash reveal the leaves to have razor sharp edges. Sleep well yet? If you've spared the Puck, he'll encourage you to sit with him around a campfire, where he'll sing and tell stories. Or are they. Perhaps you've heard of Bloody Mary before. Slenderman? The Devil that'll make you dance until you die? While the lantern remains in stranger hands, the thread between reality and fiction narrows; protagonists from the Puck's legends come to life, and the only way to rid of them is by quenching the flames of the fire.

Your journey unfortunately doesn't end there. The Puck has a riddle for you: I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?

If you fail to answer correctly, he'll vanish before you, and you can bid the lantern goodbye. You'll be forced to gather the bones from the corpses scattered across the woods, and feed it your blood -- or a friend's -- before you escape and return to the woman. The offering will leave you drained and exhausted, weak on your legs. If, on the other hand, you do answer correctly, the lantern is yours, and you'll be teleported out of the woods with a boon in your pocket: a piece of parchment invites you to visit your home in the Shadowlands. There, you'll find an object (or a pet) that belonged to you in your world.

the answer to the riddle is sparsely! it's up to you whether you'd like your character to fail.
legends told around the campfire can be any of the ones mentioned above or any other that might strike your fancy! go wild, have fun!
remember that if you pick an item from your character's world as their boon, it'll eventually disintegrate unless reforged with a soul.

.

► II. GO BIG OR GOURD HOME

Welcome to the Frightful Harvest, a festival that marks the beginning of the Respite, a temporary period of tranquility between seasons. It acknowledges the blessings offered and the role that both good and evil play in the Netherworld. It is a time to give thanks, but more importantly, it is a time of reflection and warding. Warding against not only the darkness of the next seasons to come, but of the nefarious creatures and struggles that will undoubtedly follow.

Carved pumpkins and straw bales are placed everywhere around the city, and streamers and banners are hung from every home and storefront. Decadent cakes, candies, and pastries are made in over-abundance in order to accommodate everyone, and from the lush gardens of Radiance, an elderly, dark-robed man addresses the Netherwork. You'll learn by eavesdropping on nearby Restless that his name is Doran, the oldest among you and loved by all. His smile stretches kind, and while not an official member of the Hierarchy, it's clear he has certain privileges -- well-deserved, or so you hear.

“Let us gather, feast, dance and celebrate. Let us hold our glasses high for those who heroically perished, for goodness, and for the Ascended. May their journey inspire us to change our lives and the lives of others, to resist evil, and to triumph. To you, dear friends!”

And without further ado, let the festivities begin!

► BARDIC BLITZ
The bardic blitz is a friendly competition that pits talented musicians against one another in an attempt to win over the affection of the crowd through festive melodies or personal compositions. Although it can be hosted just about anywhere, the bardic blitz is normally held in a large canvas tent directly in the heart of Mirth, though smaller crowds also gather in Serene and the Harbors around bonfires.

► FEAST
Although all cultures around Stygia bring their own tastes and specific flair to the celebrations, there are a few staple trade goods that you can find at nearly any celebration of the holiday throughout the city. Many producing the various cakes, beverages, and cookies also use the time to test and perfect their recipes, teaching others or using them as guinea pigs.

► Firstdawn Tea: This revitalizing crimson tea soothes the mind and body and is brewed from the roots of the dawn flower, which only sprouts during the Respite.
► Grablenuts: These fist-sized brown nuts have a hard, stippled outer shell and soft, delicious spicy centers. A single bite will slightly lower your inhibitions, and you may find yourself seeking proximity and warmth.
► Elysium: A nonalcoholic beverage that smells and looks as bad as it tastes. Only those with the strongest will manage to gulp it down. Once drunk, the person experiences true bliss, which seems to last for hours; in reality, it's only a few minutes.
► Will-o-the-Whiskey: Whisky with minor hallucinatory effects, visual and auditory.
► Sundrop: A pound cake coated in a sugary lemon drizzle. No side-effects, just delicious!
► Shadowfell Candy: Chewing on this candy will grant the character a deep and rejuvenating sleep, during which they will appear dead to anyone.

. ► HARVEST HUNT
The harvest hunt happens in a corn maze located in Mirth's amusement park, specifically created for the occasion. Because of the labyrinthian horrors dwelling in the Tempest, some find the terror-free replica a little inappropriate, yet participants still abound every time. A favorite seasonal game of the exuberant and athletic, characters take on the role of either hunter or prey, racing through the maze to either corner their quarry or escape the hands of their pursuer. As long as Shadows behave, it's a relatively safe activity. Friendly spars sometimes occur, picnics, and star-gazing.

► THE PARADE
The parade is the activity most looked forward to by younger Restless. Citizens clad in colorful costumes walk the streets to the rhythm of festive music, and according to tradition, it helps ward away any lingering evil that might try to hide in the community. For reasons unknown, incidents where Restless unwillingly swap bodies sometimes occur.

► III. WAYWARD SUN

The Warding Ritual is a private affair, a behind-the-scene execution on the last day of the festival as you dance and feast and frolic, blissfully unaware. Something goes awry. First, a shriek in the distance, and soon, birds flying away in apparent surprise as the landscape rustles with the sounds of creatures and Restless alike fleeing. A vague sense of dread knocks the air out of your lungs, an iron grip around your throat. And you see it then, a headless figure shrouded in a black veil of cloth, sword in one hand and a bright flaming pumpkin in the other. Its head. It thunders through the night on its skeletal horse, its blade flashing in the moonlight in search of prey. Heads fall. You might get injured during the chase -- collateral damage. 10 members of the Hierarchy won't ever rise again, and the rider eventually charges into the Tempest, leaving behind bloody puddles and a slather of confusion. If you opt to help clean up the mess, you might come across stained sheets of paper on the ground, a painting of a white scorpion in the middle. Otherwise, it's time for you to go home.

---

ooc note

► Welcome to Nightfell's first event! If you'd like additional, more casual prompts, the Notice Board is right here! New prompts will be added next month, if you've already had your fun with them!
► You'll find some answered questions here, but if you'd like to ask something else, please comment below!
► For a little spooky ambience in the woods.

Comments

[midway]

[ There is no one silent and stoic in all of Leicester, so Claude's not entirely sure how to handle D. The closest comparison he has is Jeritza, whom he hadn't seen since his time at the Academy, and even then it had been brief.

He does remember trying to bamboozle Jeritza just once before meeting the business end of his scythe and deciding that it wasn't worth it.

But D poses a question, which is surprising. ]

I thought I might enjoy some solitude. It's been an exhausting evening chasing after Puck and gambling with the treats at the feast.

[ With a glance over at D, ] I assume you're much the same? I hope I didn't intrude on what you were hoping would be a nice walk alone.

[damnpire]

[Don't assign D or me Jeritza like this.

He mulls Claude's answer over without making any show of it. He doesn't return Claude's glance, but he can feel Claude looking at him.]

I don't mind. [Being accompanied. Well, in this regard.] You chose a strange place to look for solitude.

[It's quieter here than other places, but there are still people weaved in and out of the maze.]

[midway]

[ You assigned yourself Jeritza.

Wow, Claude is almost touched that D doesn't mind his company. Most people find him annoying after all, which is why he entered this maze alone in the first place.

That said, the night is young. There's time for them to be at each other's throats still. ]

Well, I wasn't quite yet ready to abandon the festivities. Who knows when there will be something jovial to enjoy again; this place is pretty dour, don't you think?

[damnpire]

[Don't push your luck, Claude. Become annoying, and D will mind. So far, Claude is amiable, and D finds him alright. Even though I'm like (grits teeth).]

Should purgatory not be a dour place?

[Explain to him why you have wild fantasies of the afterlife being spectacular and full of warmth and mirth.]

[midway]

What makes you think this is purgatory?

[ He tilts his head, content to answer D's question with one of his own. ]

[damnpire]

[He’s really the white guy blinking gif here (no). Don’t answer his question to a question with a question. Tch.]

Many claim we’re dead, but I do not remembering dying. Until I learn more, it must be temporary.

[midway]

[ Look, he was just trying to see where D was coming from. Grasping his point of view. ]

I can't say I don't harbour my own suspicions. Dying feels plenty like living, and we can apparently die a second time. [ He's also looking around like Seems Fake. ] Plus, I shudder to think what children might've done to deserve this afterlife.

[ Just as the sound of them joyfully playing sounds around them. ]

[damnpire]

[D and Claude shaking hands on thinking this place is kind of strange and whack...wow. He peers at Claude for a long moment with just his eyes, studious... clinical?

Like he's appraising Claude now more thoroughly.]

Children die as easily as anyone. None of us can say where they go.

[midway]

[ They stop shaking hands when Claude grimaces. ]

Yeesh. Isn't that pretty bleak? Sure, kids die, but I'd hope they'd end up somewhere better than this.

[ Anyway, he doesn't care enough to debate about this.

Looking back ahead again, ] So you think there's a way out of here?

[damnpire]

[Don't abandon him right at the finish line, Claude, wtf. He'd continue to debate the idea that children, though it is unwanted, would be immune to being in such a place as this.

(gestures at the children here, for example)]

I don't know. [Which doesn't look like it's hard for him to admit. If he doesn't know the answer, he doesn't know.] However, I'm willing to search for one.

[midway]

Me too.

[ They make another turn to a wider portion of the maze. There's soft grass there, and an unobstructed view of the sky.

Claude stops walking, tilting his head up and feeling some of the tension thrumming through him settle. ]

It's either that or spruce this place up. [ He glances back at D out of the corner of his eye. ] I think I'll remain here a bit and do a little stargazing. You don't need to stay.

[damnpire]

[As Claude stops, D slows down until he has also stopped. His eyes follow Claude’s gaze up toward the sky. Contemplatively, he looks it over for a long moment even when Claude dismisses him.

Again, he returns Claude’s glance.]

Are you sure you don’t need help finding a way out?

[midway]

[ Cute. ]

I don't think this is meant to be a death trap, so it can't be that hard.

[ He moves over to a clear patch of grass, crouching down to sweep away any dirt or bugs that might be lingering. It's hard to be too worried when he can still hear the sound of children playing tag, and the occasional snippet of conversation in the distance.

Satisfied, he looks back up. ]

You're welcome to join me. Unless this maze is causing you anxiety.

[damnpire]

[What is cute exactly here??? He looks like a terrifying figure in a dark surrealism painting. Besides, Claude is the one who was looking for a way out of the maze initially!!]

You could simply walk through the corn.

[Claude is expectantly peering at him from the cleaned spot. The challenge makes him want to leave simply to do it with no relation to the goading. Is this a date? It feels like Claude is setting him to decline and go away on purpose.

So instead, he walks slowly over to stand.]

[midway]

[ He's just going to stand there while Claude sits on the ground. That's so normal of him.

Not that Claude seems bothered by his behaviour. Again, nearly a year of Hubert lurking in the shadows of Garreg Mach, he's numb to these gothic eccentricities.

Also, unfortunately, he thinks that D is nice. He's been fairly agreeable so far, and almost pleasant conversation, if slightly awkward to start. ]

Your concern for me is touching.

[ He's teasing, wrinkling his nose. ]

So why did you come in here anyway? Not to play the game?

[damnpire]

[Yes, he will just stand here. Usually, he remains standing or saddled to create a disproportionate imbalance between himself and others on purpose if they deserve it.

Here, he stands only because Claude has not invited him to sit down. So it’s politeness.

He lifts his head to glance at the sky from beneath the hat’s brim.]

It was modeled after the Labyrinth nearby. I was curious. Why did you? You weren’t running away, or chasing anyone. Your heart was beating too slowly.

[midway]

[ ... Hello? ]

Uh, my heartbeat? [ ??? ] You can hear it?

[damnpire]

[Don’t change the subject. Answer his question, Claude.]

Yes.

[This is all he says though.]

[midway]

[ No?? D is being weird. ]

Is that why you refuse to sit down? Too noisy for you?

[damnpire]

[IS HE? He didn't even say he could hear Claude breathing, or hear the blood in Claude's veins. Or... smell Claude. Since he's not a weirdo.]

I wasn't invited to sit.

[Claude just said join him... He is polite. Most of the time. He still doesn't even sit yet.]

[midway]

So you opted to stand guard? How polite.

[ Claude is now just labelling D as socially awkward.

He gestures to the empty space. ]

You're welcome to sit and take a moment's rest. Maybe I'll even answer your question.

[damnpire]

[Claude just assigning him guard and social awkward. Rude. This is why Claude was out here alone with no friends. He’s annoying.

He pushes the obnoxiously long cape back so he doesn’t sit on it when he does sit down in the empty space.

He continues to be frustrating to Claude by not saying anything at all once he’s seated, but it could just be because he’s socially awkward (citation needed).]

[midway]

[ D can be as quiet as he wants, now Claude just assumes he's being huffy because Claude teased him and still answered his question. The reality is probably closer to D just being the strong, silent type, but the thought of him internally sulking makes him grin.

He doesn't say anything for a moment though, letting the two of them sit in silence. ]

It's less boisterous than the rest of the festivities. Is it unusual to want something a little more low-key after walking through a forest of corpses?

[ He pulls one leg into his chest, resting his arm there. ]

I haven't yet gathered the strength to return to the Shadowlands.

[damnpire]

[Don't just additionally assign him sulking!! The only time he has ever sulked is when some children chose another dude’s shitty flute over the one he made them.

But it’s fine, that one broke later, so he is the real winner here.]

As long as you aren’t leading someone into your doorway, you don’t have to return to the Shadowlands.

[Or unless Claude is a hero who wants to run save other waking Restless.]

You aren’t one of the few who are trying to break into the Palace for answers?

[midway]

[ after spiralling on discord for half an hour: ] Ah, sometimes I head back when I'm tired of giving my hard earned money to the inn.

[ He settles a hand on his side with a slight grimace. ]

Though perhaps tonight isn't one to be stingy... But no, I'm not.

[ He looks curious. ]

Are you?