oblivium: (Default)
nightfell mods ([personal profile] oblivium) wrote in [community profile] logs2022-10-06 01:15 pm

MOD EVENT #001

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.

windsongs: (057)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-21 05:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ ...Right, that's something she has to consider, even if she isn't wholly convinced the display wouldn't be considered unnerving in most places. ]

That kind of thing technically doesn't exist where I'm from, unless you know where to look. So maybe it's a lack of knowledge, but... [ She shakes her head. ] That isn't really important here.

[ There's a faint attempt at a wry smile as he confesses the Ultimate Sin. ]

Probably not something you should tell the granddaughter of a priest, just putting that out there. [ She waves her hand. ] It's fine, I'm kidding. I wasn't raised in it, so I don't have any opinions either way. Pretty sure this place spits in the face of every and any religion's idea of an afterlife, though, so you're probably not wrong to question what you've been taught.
midway: (140)

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-22 02:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Magic doesn't exist?

[ He looks a little surprised, even if it wouldn't be the craziest thing that he's heard.

He turns slightly, gesturing for her to follow him as he starts to pick his way through the remains of the festivities. Unless, she ditches him, he continues to talk as he walks. ]


Ah, I've already put my foot in my mouth... [ He laughs, shrugging slightly. ] I'm honestly not sure what I expected the afterlife to be, but this certainly wasn't it. There's a few here who think that this really isn't the end anyway.
windsongs: (113)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-24 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Hibiki's brows furrow as she thinks about what she wants to say. How to explain... ]

Well, I mean, it technically does, but most of the world functions under the impression that it doesn't. Society isn't built around it as far as I know; or if it is, it's not immediately apparent. It's complicated--take it from someone who's still new to the whole thing.

[ In layman's terms: there are a lot of conditions, and she's not smart enough to explain any of them. Sorry, Claude. With a heavy sigh, Hibiki shrugs as well, offering a wry smile. ]

I was banking on reincarnation myself, so this is definitely a let-down for me too. Makes the work I was doing back home feel... I don't know. I just really hope this isn't their final resting place.
midway: (61)

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-25 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It might be complicated, but it sounds pretty fascinating. As depressing as this underworld has been thus far, one of the bright spots is learning about the different backgrounds and worlds that the other Restless hail from. It's terrible that they've all been forced here, but kind of wonderful that they can co-exist in relative peace.

But whatever there is to learn about magic and the place she comes from, he can ask again when she's not bleeding from the head. ]


Were you in the business of guiding people to the afterlife?

[ He crouches down after walking a few, short steps, grabbing table cloth that had fallen to the floor from the feast at some point, and is still relatively clean.

Tearing off a piece, he offers it over to her to wipe away the blood at her crown. ]
windsongs: (88)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-26 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ The speed at which he came to that answer is surprising, taking Hibiki aback as she blinks a few times. Her expression turning wistful, her gaze slides away. ]

Technically I'm supposed to say that I help spirit or supernatural individuals with transitioning to their next stage of existence, but yes, that's most of what my work entails. Or would have, once I finished my probationary period.

[ But she seemed to get looped into that sort of work regardless of how long she's been a contractor. She's not entirely sure why her boss took a shining to her. Quietly taking the cloth, she gingerly places it at her temple. ]

But I don't know if I'd still have it in me after seeing things firsthand, if this really is the end. Provided I somehow came back to life.
midway: (59)

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-26 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Though people rarely get the liberty of a proper burial at war, Claude's not unfamiliar with the rituals surrounding sending people off to the next life. He'd seen it Almyra and Fodlan both, imagines there's too much sentimentality in humans across borders to let their loved ones go without a proper goodbye.

And despite being surrounded by so much death, he's not sure what he expected to be waiting for all those that passed. He never imagined his own death. Didn't allow himself to dwell on failure. ]


There would be more people here, if this was it, don't you think? Everyone who's passed from your world, mine, and all the others here.

[ Hm. ]

Or maybe they were sent to another piece of this place... It's too early to really say. Have you been gathering information?
windsongs: (047)

assuming she doesn't know she's talked to him on soulidarity already

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-26 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's a bit more nuanced than simple burial rituals, although she does have some knowledge of that. Even if her grandfather never invested the time to train her, Hibiki knows the basic tenets of Shintoism and knows what goes into their rites. Usually her work entails actually working with the spirits themselves, rather than the family.

But those details aren't important, at least not enough for her to elaborate.

Claude touches on a point she's been grappling with herself. Sure, there are multiple versions of the afterlife, and there's the very real possibility that more than one exists, but... ]


I mean, it's possible they were, we have no way of knowing. [ She doesn't sound convinced. ]

I have been a bit, mostly gauging people's strength to see who was capable of what. At first, I was going to use that info as a basis to help others who may not be able to defend themselves if anything bad happens. But I noticed something. Most of us have some kind of power, magic or whatever else you wanna call it--or excel at something way beyond what's considered "normal." I don't have a percentage, but it's a pretty big margin.
midway: (186)

yep that's right!

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-27 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
[ That's an interesting point that she raises. In any normal society, civilians would outnumber combatants by far, and yet it seems that the people who arrived in the Shadowlands the same time as them were mostly combatants of some sort, or at least endowed with above average abilities. Claude certainly hasn't seen anyone from Fodlan who hadn't fought in the war.

He rubs his chin, thinking about it. ]


You think we might've been brought here for a purpose?
windsongs: (38)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-28 05:09 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's still a theory, one of many that is swirling around in her head. The fact that so many of them don't quite remember dying--or their last memory doesn't feel like their last--makes her question a lot of things.

Hibiki shrugs a bit, not willing to commit to anything yet. ]


I've learned to never trust coincidences without evidence to back them up. But that might just be paranoia talking.
midway: (124)

[personal profile] midway 2022-10-28 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Nothing wrong with a healthy dose of paranoia.

[ He hums, thinking about the Hierarchy, the soulforges and the fact that they could "die" a second time here. Whatever the afterlife might be, he would've thought it'd be a bit more permanent than this.

And a little less just like real life. ]


Have you tried the whole soulmate thing?
windsongs: (049)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-30 06:09 am (UTC)(link)
I'm pretty sure no paranoia is considered a healthy dose...

[ Claude please...

At least the quick quip means that she is doing well enough given the circumstances. His question, however, is greeted with a bit of a sigh. ]


No, not yet. What about you?
midway: (271)

[personal profile] midway 2022-11-01 11:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He just smiles a little helplessly at her. Having paranoia as a personality trait is likely what's kept him alive so long, but he can see her point.

In any case, ]
No. I'd like to see someone who has though, and hear from them how it's affected them.

Perhaps I'll give it a shot once we know of a way to reverse it.
windsongs: (048)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-11-03 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ Hibiki pauses briefly, a frown flashing on her face before she covers it with a curved finger to her lips. ]

I hadn't thought about having to reverse it, but you make a good point. We should probably know all the terms and what to expect.

Tell you what--if either of us happens to find out anything, let's swap notes. How does that sound?