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]

[ The impact knocks the breath out of Claude, ears ringing and head spinning from being thrown through the air but he's still quick to struggle to his feet, too aware of the way that he'd bodily slammed into Fukawa, and afraid that he might've broken some of her bones.

Seeing her unconscious doesn't assuage any of her fears. ]

Damn it.

[ Perhaps it's time for a strategic retreat. Surely there's someone in Stygia who could fell this beast? But it's not going to be Claude, gritting his teeth as he hoists Fukawa into his arms, trying his best not to jostle her when he doesn't know the extent of her injuries.

Behind them, the creature turns its burning eyes back in their direction, bony fingers digging into the earth as it begins to crawl in their direction again. ]

[janescayre]

[Wow this is like the third time this log she's wound up princess carried by a stone cold hottie. Her wishes have finally come true!

Sadly, it is not Fukawa reaping any of these benefits. While the creature crawls after them, while Claude runs for both of their lives, a new beast awakens.

A hand snatches at his arm. She swings upright in the grip. There's never a clean transfer of memory, if any at all, but what she receives is intent. To flee, to fear, to usher other souls to safety. And all it takes is a quick glance behind to know what she's up against.

Huh. Well then. This place is finally starting to look like hell.]

Lemme at 'im! I'll make bone-broth stew, enough to feed a hundred men! [Syo's wickedly delighted by this turn of events, nervy and itching for a fight. She kicks and twists and—] Oh! Hello there~

[She claps this new piece of meat on the cheek. Don't know him, but god would she like to, those are eyes you could just pluck out and preserve in a jar.

LATER! There's a whole ass skeleton skidding at them.]

Put me down baby, I gotta go on an archeological dig! Got some big bones to pick. Get it?!

[midway]

[ Claude has their Soulidarity adventures to thank for the fact that he's not taken entirely off guard when Fukawa suddenly wakes—different. He doesn't stumble, but he does jerk to the side suddenly, knowing better than to run in a straight line when attempting to escape an attack.

He moves into a thicker brush of trees, back hitting a tree as he takes a second to catch his breath. ]

You really think you can take on that thing?

[ The earth rumbles around them as if to emphasize the threat as the skeleton slams it's bony hand into the ground again. ]

Do you have a weapon?

[janescayre]

[The second they're at the tree and taking a breather, she hurls herself out of his grasp. What do you know! The stud catches on quick, makes no fuss. That's better than her usual compatriots. And he's much easier on the eyes than most, look at that darling braid! A prince charming made flesh and bone!

Are they sure this isn't actually heaven?

Syo nods emphatically, whipping a pair of scissors out and flexing her fingers.]

They may look humble, but my scissors have gutted flesh and steel alike. And this isn't the first crazy big uggo I've faced. Oh, but, do me a favor, would you?

[She cracks her knuckles as the skeleton makes the earth shake. They won't stay hidden for long. It's go time.]

Try leading it somewhere precarious. I'm counting on you, handsome.

[And with a saucy wink, she dashes off. At least with it crawling she can get to the neck, no trouble. Severing the spine should be the quickest way to put a stop to it, and what's a little beheading between friends.

Failing that, maybe this guy can play bait cleverly enough to save them both.]

[midway]

[ Claude thinks that Fukawa is fine—having met her only for a brief period of time—but he can't say he minds the sudden bout of confidence and manpower. Or at least, what he hopes is manpower and not unfounded confidence. He's a little wary of letting her go at the beast with just her scissors (she's not even wearing any armour?), but frankly he's useless without Failnaught, and he doubts a wooden bow would do much damage to the skeleton.

So he has to rely on his brain to set a trap.

Thankfully, he doubts the skeleton is particularly bright.

He gets out an ] All right [ before she dashes off, casting a look at where the skeleton is lumbering ever closer. Ironically, it might be a blessing in disguise that the Puck had sent them running all across the woods. At least it's given him a good lay of the land.

With a breath, he darts out from under the cover.

The skeleton sets its blazing eyes on him almost instantly, and if Claude wasn't already so used to death and gore, he might be cowed by the ghastly appearance. Thankfully, it doesn't intimidate him much, and he doesn't waste any time in darting away, zigzagging in the direction of a nearby ravine. As much faith as he has in Syo, he'd rather they knock the skeleton to its doom than draw out a fight with it.

He doesn't let it corner him against the drop, hoping that it's not intelligent enough to catch onto his intention as he hears the water rushing. He plans to run as close to the edge as he can manage before darting to the side, sandwiching the skeleton between the two of them and the water.

Granted, the fact that its bony hands thundering into the ground cause some of the rock at the ledge to fall loose isn't great. ]

Cw: eye gore

[janescayre]

[Though she is the first to dart free, she has the benefit of being drably dressed on a dark night. On the other hand, her companion is wearing yellow. The skeleton locks into Claude the second he's in sight, and its mad scramble grants her the perfect opportunity.

With a well-timed run-and-jump, she lights on the scapula, scampering ahead on weathered bones to the neck.

It senses her though. No skin and no muscles and it's still getting tickled by her little feets, what a rip off. One enormous hand cracks down from on high and Syo has to leap from spine to skull, dangling precariously along its cheek.

Only now she's got a better idea. What's big and gooey and the only soft spot to be found?

She heaves, she hos, she swings her legs around, past gnashing teeth, notching her feet in the nose holes. She cinches backwards on the cheek. One wrong move could spell her doom. She has to be quick.

Before it can swat her away, before it can snatch up Claude, Syo drives her scissors into one bulbous, glistening eye.

There's a howl of agony. Unearthly. Probably ear-drum damagining. Hers are ringing, woof, sounds nasty. She thrusts further in, hand suctioning into the goop, sleeve soaking thick as the viscous innards pulse, pump free.

She rips out just as it moves to slap her away — and just as her newest paramour comes flush with a ravine. He's darting to the side, she's dropping free before she gets smacked to Timbuktu. She lands quite close in a (mostly) graceful roll, on hands and knees as she watches the great brute stumble ahead, clutching its wounded socket.

Then it careens over. The weight of its hips and legs dragging over the edge makes the earth tremble.

And in a hilarious twist of fate, the rocks under their own feet give away.]

[midway]

[ Even with the way his heart his thundering in his chest, it's a pretty impressive sight. Gruesome and terrible when Fukawa's scissors dig into the creature's eye. He spares a moment to be impressed with how she can move over a giant, moving skeleton that's trying to kill her. She deserves to live a life of peace, but if she's inclined to violence, Claude wouldn't mind having someone like that in his army...

He probably shouldn't have wasted so much time she watching however—not fast enough to break her fall when she's thrown to the ground.

But soon enough it doesn't matter, the earth beneath them crumbling and falling away. They make a break for it, and it's a second too late. There's a disorienting second where Claude takes a step and his feet hits air instead of earth and then he's falling.

They're both falling. The only thought Claude has before he hits the water is that he really hopes that stupid skeleton doesn't land on them.

And then he doesn't think, the breath knocked out him when the water slams into him, everything going black for a moment.

But no rest for the wicked, and soon enough he's kicking back to the surface, gasping for air and pushing the hair out of his eyes and he looks around for his partner in crime. ]

Fukawa—?

[janescayre]

[What a cruel world this is. Syo hasn't even gotten to introduce herself, and she's already been ushered off the stage.

There's a calamitous splash and a desperate heave — indeed, it's Fukawa that resurfaces now. Was she resurrected by the fall, the underwater plunge? Which doesn't matter.

Is it a bad time to mention she's deathly afraid of water?]

GAAAH! [Also a terrible swimmer. Look at that, she's doggy-paddling. It's pathetic.] WHA-WHA—WHERE?! WHY?!

[Oops went under. She returns with a string of algea flopped over her head.]

CLAUDE!

[Paddling over your way now. Please help.]

[midway]

[ She's alive!

... For now!

Claude gapes for a moment, watching her flounder in the water desperately, amazed that have running all over that giant skeleton, the girl in front of him is unable to swim of all things.

But there's no time for surprise. He doesn't waste much time before swimming over to her ] Hold still! I've got you. [ and winding one of his arms around her to keep her afloat.

They bob peaceably for a few seconds while he narrows his eyes at her, squinting as best he can in the darkness to try and discern if she's bleeding. ]

Are you hurt?

[janescayre]

[Thank god for old timey chivalry.

She gladly accepts his aid, even calming some once he's locked her in and the waves cease to batter so recklessly at her. It's rather placid water, actually. So what made it throw up tsunami waves just now?]

Uh...I'm... [Fukawa blinks up at him. Kicks her legs below the water, feeling for strains. She hadn't had time to think about it, being convinced she was drowning and all.] It f-feels like I slammed into something? But I'm all right. I just hate swimming.

Why are we — where's that sk-skeleton thing? [Wasn't the last thing she remembered his whole body being launched in the air?

Fukawa's eyes go wide. There's a teeny hand prodding at his shoulder, feeling for wounds.]

Are you hurt? You got th-thrown! Like a ragdoll! And I...what happened?

[midway]

Not sure, I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a second there. [ Everything since that giant mass of bones had first lumbered toward them feels like a blur now. All he can think about is getting out of the water and toward relative safety. ]

After I hit you, that other side of yours came out and helped lure the skeleton off the edge of the cliff. It's too bad that we went down with it.

[ But it could be worse. She seems to be all right, and Claude is remarkably in one piece given the night that they've both had. It's slow treading through the water with only one arm free, but he swims them both closer to the shore. ]

If we don't get that lantern at the end of all this, I'm going to be pretty mad.

[janescayre]

B-but... [He's alert. He's speaking clearly. Moreover, he's keeping her afloat. It seems whatever injuries he's sustained, they aren't enough to knock him down.

It's rather admirable, when she thinks about it. It's not the sort of thing you could expect from most boys back home. And to have such noble intentions paired with such vivid green eyes...

Hold up.]

Other s-s-side?!

[Her jaw drops in horror. Look, she was used to swapping places back home out of necessity, but her company there wasn't going to be in any danger for it. Claude was, well. Absurdly good looking? Dashing? Princely? Exactly their type?

Should she be grateful for the gigantic evil skeleton? This evening could have taken a much worse turn if there hadn't been a common enemy in the way.

Only his non-chalance saves her from a full blown fit. She goes to apologize and he bemoans their chances at retreiving the lantern. A wave splashes into her mouth and she's lost momentum spitting it out.]

P-bleh! Puh puh! [GOD, WHY HER?] Let's just g-get to land. I want out. We'll f-figure out the lantern business after.

[Besides, there seems to be a familiar figure at the shoreline. Their precious lantern is propped at his side as Puck starts up a slow-clap.

Man, she fucking hates the afterlife.]