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

b2

[chokuto]

[He perceptively picks Silco out of the crowd, recognizing that sharp, on-edge silhouette — the scars, the dissimilar eyes, the tense posture. In the aftermath of violence on the street, Sasuke has been left with nothing; he wasn't able to catch or stop the assailant before they took off into the storm over the ocean, too far and too dangerous to reach with his unreliable abilities.

So he is back here for much the same purpose: looking for information.]

What did you find?

[The question announces his approach, given the silence of his footsteps and preternatural tendency to shield his presence. Sasuke's shirt is mottled with blood; there is no telling at a glance if it belongs to him, but he doesn't appear to be in pain.]

[zauneyete]

[ A familiar voice? Silco's head tipped up, from his crouch, before he straightened, pulling up the sheet of paper with him as he straightened. At least this time, Silco was clothed, a blessing for both he and Sasuke. The man looked larger, with his big coat on, the large lapel almost like a lizard's frill around his shoulder, to make himself look larger. He turned a mismatched look back toward the paper, he turned it in his hand, before he offered it to the man. ]

Something unusual, I think. It certainly doesn't look like the rest of the trash.

[ It seems purposeful, while the rest of the trash seems normal. ]

The white caught my eye -- although what it means...

[ Was anyone's guess. ]

[chokuto]

[He notices the difference in appearance, although as usual the main feature of Silco's that attracts his attention is the strange eye. There is more to the story there — Sasuke would know — but he has no intention to pry. He wouldn't like it if the prying was reversed.]

It looks like there's many more, too. [Not what you would expect to find after the chaos of the headless figure's massacre. Sasuke kneels, right hand picking up another to inspect the sheet.] It doesn't match anything I've seen around the celebration so far.

[He'd remember such a striking symbol.]

... A scorpion. [Frowning, Sasuke glances to the deserted streets.] I fought off the rider earlier, but he escaped into the storm over the water. I couldn't follow.

[zauneyete]

Me neither.

[ Silco muttered, in response to the first statement. He hadn't seen anything like this before, although he knew what scorpions were, vaguely, from the books he'd read. Brackern, he knew they were called, but the term Sasuke provided might be more recognizeable. ]

The rider almost ran me over earlier, too. [ He held a hand to his chin, thinking. ]

If I had to wager a guess, I would say it's more than likely that this was an attempt to distract, since it ran. From what, though...

[chokuto]

We won't know its motives without investigating more. This is a good start, but we should see if anyone knows what the symbol means.

[And you have been officially enlisted, Silco. He turns, headed up the street, not looking to see if the man will follow but expecting it all the same. The night is cool, still dark, although dawn's encroachment has begun to bleed on the horizon — even if it feels that the night should have ended hours ago. Trying to track time in this place is almost an infuriatingly pointless exercise.

Around the next corner, Sasuke spots a small group of civilians sweeping fallen debris into bins. To their left, there is a body covered in a sheet: one of the horseman's victims.

To Silco,] See if they recognize the scorpion. I'm going to check the body.

[zauneyete]

I suppose the locals would be the right place to start.

[ Silco had been about to leave, to go off and do his own thing -- most of which involved lurking and smoking -- when Sasuke mentioned that he was going to go investigate more about the attack, and...

We? What did he mean by we?

His curiosity would get the better of him though, and he was quick to follow, a lurking presence to the right and behind Sasuke as they approached the body, and the people gathered close by, working on the cleanup. When Sasuke stepped to the body, Silco moved to the people, one hand on the slip of paper, the other in his pocket. He approached, and there was only the minimal of surprised, when they looked at him. He supposed he still did look like a sight, didn't he? ]

Excuse me, you all wouldn't happen to recognize this would you?

[ Paper held up, he smiled in his most disarming smile.

It did still look somewhat threatening. ]

[chokuto]

[If there's any ulterior motive to passing off the social aspect of investigation to Silco, he doesn't acknowledge it, though his gaze slides over to the man as that question is asked. Unfortunately the civilians don't recognize the pattern; they say as much. And if they do their best not to look him in the eye, well, at least it isn't said aloud.

Meanwhile Sasuke has peeled the sheet down one of the bodies left by the horseman. It's a bloody mess beneath, as he expects, torso relieved of its head in a gory bisection of the neck.

Assuming Silco finishes with the unknowing civilians — a clear and unfortunate dead end — Sasuke will wave him over.]

There's a difference to some of the other bodies I've seen in the Shadowlands. Can you tell? [His voice is low, so as not to carry.] I believe this individual still has their soul intact. Have you heard of soul-forging?

[zauneyete]

[ Silco's not really used to dealing with non-Zaunites, and it shows. Even if they had seen it, the way he swaggars, the way he talks, and gestures, it's all... made for harsh environments, and Silco is the biggest fish of them all. He doesn't look large -- the man is small, after all -- but he has the personality so much larger than his frame, and they all look away -- but they do answer.

Silco narrowed his eye at them, watching, before he nodded. He didn't get the sense that they were lying, even if they did shirk away from him, and he turned to the other man, before he made his way over, slow. ]

I haven't.

[ He admitted, honestly. He crouched, to look down closer at the body, curious at what he found. ] I assume it means one can do something with it? Make something?

[chokuto]

[He notices how Silco behaves with the civilians of Stygia, eyes tracking the man until he's joined by the body. It seems he wasn't remiss to hand off the questioning to Silco; while he could have come to the same results, his own personality is coarse and blunt by comparison, and he'd sooner prefer to learn the answers to his questions more indirectly.]

Yeah. In the Netherworld, the only way to make anything durable is by imbuing it with a soul. Soul-forging. Otherwise it'll disintegrate. I've seen it happen. [He'd found a few knives, but they hadn't lasted. Not long enough to serve any real use more than once or twice. Soul-forging is a topic he's had to dig up information on, because the people of Stygian seem so reluctant to approach it.] ... The souls of those like us, Restless. You were attacked by the Reaper when you first woke in this place. It wanted your soul.

[It's an incident Silco will likely remember, after he was ripped out of the Shroud.]

To obtain a soul, the person must be killed.

[zauneyete]

Ah. Pleasant.

Here I thought it was shipping me off for manual labor.

[ Really, they used the word "forges", and Silco had assumed that it was right back into the dank and dark hole where he'd crawled out of as a boy -- back into the mines. Wouldn't that have been an appropriate full-circle for him to experience? Wouldn't that just be the cherry on top of everything he'd been dealing with in the past few weeks?

No, it was worse. They'd wanted to turn him into a weapon.

Sasuke would see it, the moment it Truly connected, the flash across his face, something monstrous and beastly -- fury -- before he reigned it in, and ran a hand through his hair, smothering that spark of anger, and returned back to the suave man with the eerie eye, instead. ]

Do you think this headless rider aimed to harvest souls for that purpose then? [ A pause, to consider. ] Why leave them, then?

[chokuto]

[He does see that flash of emotion across the man's face, as someone keen to notice all details with a trained perception further aided by his eyes. It makes him wonder what causes it — whether it's what the threat of what those Reapers had planned for Silco, or something else. He doesn't have enough information to guess.]

It was my first thought until I checked the bodies. The assailant hasn't returned, and at this point I don't believe they intend to, so these people were murdered for the sake of it. It would be a good idea to find out who they were.

[Possibly, it was motivated. The victims could have features in common.]

Eventually I'm going to try to get into the Forges myself.

[zauneyete]

Hm. Then what would be the point? [ He asked, his tone thoughtful. ] Do you think someone will come by to pick them up? Or perhaps the Hierarchy will...

[ Silco, of course, suspected that this rider had been purposeful. He may be paranoid, and see the worst of most people, but there was merit in that. He didn't think this was a random event, and it didn't seem like Sasuke did either. Curious. ]

I don't think you'll have trouble getting in, but out... may be a different story.

Unless you're looking to sneak in. Do you think you'll find a hint to what all this means there?

[chokuto]

[He glances at Silco, expression for a moment blank, then quizzically wrinkled — sometimes he takes for granted his agreement with Sakura to conceal the basics of his world and its abilities.]

Yes. I'll be... sneaking in. [That is, in fact, what ninjas do.] Stealth isn't a problem for me. I don't know what I'll find, but it's worth the investigation.

It's possible one of us could stay around to see who comes to collect the bodies. What do you plan to do? I can tell you're not uncomfortable in this scenario. You may lack physical strength, but you do have experience.

[Most people don't expertly interrogate civilians or look at dead bodies without batting a lash.]

[zauneyete]

You're going now? [ He asked, his tone edged towards the incredulous, but he doesn't sound... disappointed by that fact. Only surprised. Most people would want time to "rest", or perhaps to regroup and think. Silco certainly would want to ponder, and think about what it would mean, or what the best way in was.

But he'd sounded... confident. About sneaking in. It's a little surprising, how it seemed like not a big deal, but who knew what kind of world he was from? Silco had snuck into plenty of places when he'd been a boy, so maybe he's from a similar world, where sneaking was just part of the skills one learned when they were kids.

He looked at the bodies, and lifted a single real eyebrow, over his blue eye. ]

I'll probably hover, and see what happens. [ It's with a shrug. ] The more information, the better -- and the smell of the dead doesn't really get to me. [ He tapped the side of his nose, before a half smile curled upward. ] Part of that experience, you so keenly pointed out.

[ A pause, then. ] I'd be interested to hear what you find.

[chokuto]

No, not right now. [Sasuke doesn't intend to infiltrate now, but he's been spending a lot of time on reconnaissance in general. It could be worth another trip to the fissures in the Shadowlands.] Sometime later.

[However Silco's demonstrated himself as a capable person, not giving him that information on when is crucial. It is one of the basic rules of missions; only those with either clearance or direct involvement should be aware of details.

He nods his head curtly.]

I can share what is relevant after the fact. If you do come across anything in the area, I'd also be interested in hearing about it.

[With their business done, Sasuke turns and starts off.]

[zauneyete]

[ It's all business. Silco actually appreciates that. Some people like to make all this hubub about saying nice things, or dealing with pleasantries, or payments. This is simply...transactional. These bodies would need to be watched, and this man clearly thought Silco would be better suited for it.

He wasn't wrong, of course. If the man was going to go off and...engage in heroics elsewhere, that was perfectly fine with him. He could watch the bodies from a safe distance, and if anyone asked, well. he was just out here for a smoke. That was all. ]

Please, do let me know, and I'll do the same courtesy.

[ He doesn't even wave, but Silco moves to slip into a little alley, and watch. People seemed to linger, but by the time Sasuke is gone, Silco's the only one that lingered. ]