<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alex+Brush|Amatic+SC" rel="stylesheet"><div style="background:url('https://s15.postimg.cc/uhghrytqj/halloween.jpg') top no-repeat, #23444B;background-size:600px auto;margin:auto;padding:420px 20px 20px 20px;width:560px;font:14px georgia;color:#e2dad3;">The bottle of cheap liquor rolls across the floor, empty and forgotten as Jack relaxes in his old recliner. He tries to put his cigarette out in the ash tray but misses at first, thumping the butt into his side table instead. A lazy ‘hmph’ leaves his throat before he tries again. After putting out his cigarette, he drags himself up and leans both hands on the cauldron to see what’s become of the game he had forgotten about. He squints and the triangles of his eyes become two blocky lines, clumsily carved and messy in their execution. His mouth forms a tiny frown with equally poor formation. Jack is too drunk to understand what’s happening for a moment and so he simply watches for a while as his monsters tear apart Beqanna and its inhabitants.
Wait.
Oh no.
Oh jeez.
He pushes himself off the cauldron and scrambles for his cloak, spilling the entire festive potion to the floor. His clawed hands tie a loose knot to keep the clothing on him and then he’s rushing out the door with a handful of fairy wings. This kind of screw up is going to require some pretty big magic to fix, he thinks.
Meanwhile, the clouds gather in front of the moon with alarming speed. The minions raise their heads and freeze in place as they watch, wait. A few of them mumble to one another but they dare not speak above a whisper. The fog that Jack had gathered before grows even thicker before a ferocious wind sweeps through and clears it all away. Even the minions are shivering as they begin to back away into the shadows that had protected them before.
The decoys he had placed before slowly rise up on thin limbs and clawed hands. Their expressions turn angry and their carvings are sloppy, each with a knife plunged into the side of their head. Autumn frost emanates from the clones and the flora nearby turn red and orange. Each copy reaches up to grip the handle of the kitchen knife with a clawed hand before roughly yanking it from themselves. The fire within them turns a bright blue as Jack takes control of them and points the tip of his blade at his players.
“<font color=#d78355>The games are done, we’ve had our fun. Now it’s time for you to run,</font>” he says as he steps forward. His minions turn to ash as they make their retreat, swept away in the biting wind. The spirit’s strides are long and fluid despite his intoxication. There’s no time for more inventive rhymes, he knows, as the real hunt begins. The Jacks of the shore simply walk across the surface of the water while others fall from trees like horrible spiders. Some skitter across cave walls and dangle from ceilings. A few discard their knives in favor of the strings of Halloween lights, wrapping them around their knuckles with sick grins. Each of them fully intends to wipe this occasion from existence and destroy any evidence of their shared shame.
<hr>
Jack is drunk and VERY ANGRY now. Each clone is basically the real Jack, but split up so he's not <I>as</i> powerful as he normally is. Your character should be warmed up from attacking or fleeing from the minions, so treat this as you would a challenge with another character. Explain the why’s and how’s of each attack and keep in mind any damage you might’ve taken in the last round. If you’re not a fighter, try to reason with Jack while evading his attacks. He is a very powerful magician so you won’t be able to kill him. Begin to formulate your plan of escape for the next round.
Only five players will move on to the final round, so pay close attention to your grammar and readability. This round ends on 11:59pm CT on Sunday.
@[Zoryn], you were 2 minutes late on your reply, so I’m sorry to say you’ve been cursed. For the next two real life weeks, Zoryn’s eyes, mouth, and nostrils will be illuminated by fire like a jack-o’-lantern’s. His features keep their natural shape, though. It won’t hurt him as they produce no real heat, but it looks really creepy and he might terrify his children. (If you’d like to keep this curse and make it genetic, let me know and I’ll ask Cassi.)
<div style="color:#d78355;font:48px Alex Brush;text-align:center;margin-bottom:-15px;">Jack O'Lantern</div>
<div style="font:20px amatic sc;text-align:center;">O! Ghostly friend, thy hair's on end! What fearful fate do you portend?</div>
Wait.
Oh no.
Oh jeez.
He pushes himself off the cauldron and scrambles for his cloak, spilling the entire festive potion to the floor. His clawed hands tie a loose knot to keep the clothing on him and then he’s rushing out the door with a handful of fairy wings. This kind of screw up is going to require some pretty big magic to fix, he thinks.
Meanwhile, the clouds gather in front of the moon with alarming speed. The minions raise their heads and freeze in place as they watch, wait. A few of them mumble to one another but they dare not speak above a whisper. The fog that Jack had gathered before grows even thicker before a ferocious wind sweeps through and clears it all away. Even the minions are shivering as they begin to back away into the shadows that had protected them before.
The decoys he had placed before slowly rise up on thin limbs and clawed hands. Their expressions turn angry and their carvings are sloppy, each with a knife plunged into the side of their head. Autumn frost emanates from the clones and the flora nearby turn red and orange. Each copy reaches up to grip the handle of the kitchen knife with a clawed hand before roughly yanking it from themselves. The fire within them turns a bright blue as Jack takes control of them and points the tip of his blade at his players.
“<font color=#d78355>The games are done, we’ve had our fun. Now it’s time for you to run,</font>” he says as he steps forward. His minions turn to ash as they make their retreat, swept away in the biting wind. The spirit’s strides are long and fluid despite his intoxication. There’s no time for more inventive rhymes, he knows, as the real hunt begins. The Jacks of the shore simply walk across the surface of the water while others fall from trees like horrible spiders. Some skitter across cave walls and dangle from ceilings. A few discard their knives in favor of the strings of Halloween lights, wrapping them around their knuckles with sick grins. Each of them fully intends to wipe this occasion from existence and destroy any evidence of their shared shame.
<hr>
Jack is drunk and VERY ANGRY now. Each clone is basically the real Jack, but split up so he's not <I>as</i> powerful as he normally is. Your character should be warmed up from attacking or fleeing from the minions, so treat this as you would a challenge with another character. Explain the why’s and how’s of each attack and keep in mind any damage you might’ve taken in the last round. If you’re not a fighter, try to reason with Jack while evading his attacks. He is a very powerful magician so you won’t be able to kill him. Begin to formulate your plan of escape for the next round.
Only five players will move on to the final round, so pay close attention to your grammar and readability. This round ends on 11:59pm CT on Sunday.
@[Zoryn], you were 2 minutes late on your reply, so I’m sorry to say you’ve been cursed. For the next two real life weeks, Zoryn’s eyes, mouth, and nostrils will be illuminated by fire like a jack-o’-lantern’s. His features keep their natural shape, though. It won’t hurt him as they produce no real heat, but it looks really creepy and he might terrify his children. (If you’d like to keep this curse and make it genetic, let me know and I’ll ask Cassi.)
<div style="color:#d78355;font:48px Alex Brush;text-align:center;margin-bottom:-15px;">Jack O'Lantern</div>
<div style="font:20px amatic sc;text-align:center;">O! Ghostly friend, thy hair's on end! What fearful fate do you portend?</div>