11-21-2018, 05:38 PM
ROUND 3
In fits and starts, in singles and small groups, they step forwards onto the paths. Somewhere, watching from afar, they are pleased with the symmetry. Half of them go left, and half of them go right; divide and conquer. A worthy strategy. Perhaps they feel a brief flicker of sadness that half of the travelers will not succeed, but it can’t be helped. There must be sacrifice made to right this balance, and the sacrifice of work put in despite uncertain outcome is worth much. Their choice allows others to make a different choice – one that will lead them to success.
The island isn’t large, and the storm isn’t long, though it is unusually fierce. They don’t make quick progress, so it surely feels like forever, exposed to the elements. But it isn’t forever, or even too long; they’re not interested in killing anyone today.
Those on the left-hand path walk awhile; first the ground is flat, and thank goodness for that, because it’s all they can do to put one foot in front of another and move onward against ice and snow and wind; terrible wind that steals their words and their breath. But as they begin to adjust to the cold, feeling strangely warm (a truly dangerous sign), there are dark shadows all around them. Tree trunks that spring up out of nowhere in the low visibility, forcing them to travel even slower to risk crashing into the bare forms of towering hardwoods or the low-hanging greenery of frost-crusted pines. By the time the trees clear and the storm begins to ease, they have found themselves back in a field, on the edge of a different shore. They can no longer feel the cold, but they are sleepy, and some delusional to top it off. Some might find irony in the shape of the shoreline opening in front of them – the top two curves of a heart, but not a pond. This is the sight that ushers them into healing sleep amongst the snow-drifts. They wake in a meadow well in the grips of spring, a teasing hint of summer warmth blowing across their coats and new grass revealed where the breeze blows the powdery snow back towards the forest they already traversed. But while the Isle might be melting, they…aren’t. A souvenir of sorts from the unnatural storm, their manes and tails are still encrusted with ice that sparkles in the sunlight and seems to have no intention of melting. Those who were previously gifted have also awoken once more intact, but it is clear to all of them: they did not choose the right path, and there is certainly no way to catch up now, since the path they had followed from their original landing site is completely gone. It is also clear, in their hearts: the fae are still grateful for their sacrifice.
(@[Nalia], @[Briella], @[Leander], @[Wane], @[Kagerus], @[Ether], @[Jinju], @[Madelyn], @[Solace], & @[Sabrael] will have lingering ice encrusted in their manes and tails for 1 BQ year. After that it may melt away, or you may claim it as a permanent 0-space appearance trait. They are free to return home and have all of their traits returned to them).
The other half take the right-hand path. This path is not flat. Perhaps the ground underneath is flat, but they are forced to walk, and dig, and push, and jump, and climb their way forward, as snow piles up around them. Sometimes it is no more than a light dusting of powder underfoot, while other times it towers at horse-height or far above, threatening to collapse upon the weary travelers at any moment. A few times they lose the path when the drifts become insurmountable and they must go around, but through luck – or perhaps a little otherworldly assistance – all of them continue to find their way back to the trail and persevere. But they are not immune to the effects of the storm any more than their companions had been – they, too, grow bitterly cold before strangely warm and confused. They don’t even notice at first, when the storm stops; the entire world is still white and gray, broken only by the intermittent forms of their traveling companions, and even they are now near-white with snow and ice that clings to their freezing bodies. But the monotony is broken by the appearance of something dark ahead, a smudge that becomes clearer as they stumble and trudge forward.
There’s the pond: dark, a blue so dark as to be nearly black, and an undeniable heart shape that is clear from the ridge they are standing on. It’s cut into the ground and somehow not frozen, but very still and quiet. Growing from the snow between the two swells of the top of the heart is a single massive cedar tree, and hanging from its branches are the promised icicles. They fall into the same cold-induced stupor that the left-hand group had, and awaken some time later, sheltered beneath the tree’s boughs. They begin to look up at their prize, hundreds – thousands – of choices to bring back to the mountain. Some are tiny, mere nubs of ice, and they grow in size all the way to spears nearly the length of the horse’s heads. There’s beauty but danger here too – they could send lethal ice projectiles tumbling to the ground (or into each other) as they try to capture one or two icicles to take back to the mountain.
And how are they going to get them there?
@[Kolera], @[Wallace], @[leliana], @[Leilan], @[Valdis], @[litotes], @[Santana], @[Nocturne], @[Agnieszka], and @[Illum] chose the right-hand path. Now they are faced with a challenge – to bring several icicles back to the mountain – not melted.
-They still do not have traits.
-They may work together or separately.
-Entries will be judged on creativity, readability, and judge’s preference.
-A first and second place prize will be awarded for this quest.
-Round 3 entries are to be posted in this thread no later than NOVEMBER 26TH at 11:00 PM CST
-Your post should describe how they retrieve some icicles and take them to the mountain – alone, together, injured, triumphant, however.
-Failing to respond on time or at all without notifying the officials you are dropping out will result in a permanent defect
The island isn’t large, and the storm isn’t long, though it is unusually fierce. They don’t make quick progress, so it surely feels like forever, exposed to the elements. But it isn’t forever, or even too long; they’re not interested in killing anyone today.
Those on the left-hand path walk awhile; first the ground is flat, and thank goodness for that, because it’s all they can do to put one foot in front of another and move onward against ice and snow and wind; terrible wind that steals their words and their breath. But as they begin to adjust to the cold, feeling strangely warm (a truly dangerous sign), there are dark shadows all around them. Tree trunks that spring up out of nowhere in the low visibility, forcing them to travel even slower to risk crashing into the bare forms of towering hardwoods or the low-hanging greenery of frost-crusted pines. By the time the trees clear and the storm begins to ease, they have found themselves back in a field, on the edge of a different shore. They can no longer feel the cold, but they are sleepy, and some delusional to top it off. Some might find irony in the shape of the shoreline opening in front of them – the top two curves of a heart, but not a pond. This is the sight that ushers them into healing sleep amongst the snow-drifts. They wake in a meadow well in the grips of spring, a teasing hint of summer warmth blowing across their coats and new grass revealed where the breeze blows the powdery snow back towards the forest they already traversed. But while the Isle might be melting, they…aren’t. A souvenir of sorts from the unnatural storm, their manes and tails are still encrusted with ice that sparkles in the sunlight and seems to have no intention of melting. Those who were previously gifted have also awoken once more intact, but it is clear to all of them: they did not choose the right path, and there is certainly no way to catch up now, since the path they had followed from their original landing site is completely gone. It is also clear, in their hearts: the fae are still grateful for their sacrifice.
(@[Nalia], @[Briella], @[Leander], @[Wane], @[Kagerus], @[Ether], @[Jinju], @[Madelyn], @[Solace], & @[Sabrael] will have lingering ice encrusted in their manes and tails for 1 BQ year. After that it may melt away, or you may claim it as a permanent 0-space appearance trait. They are free to return home and have all of their traits returned to them).
The other half take the right-hand path. This path is not flat. Perhaps the ground underneath is flat, but they are forced to walk, and dig, and push, and jump, and climb their way forward, as snow piles up around them. Sometimes it is no more than a light dusting of powder underfoot, while other times it towers at horse-height or far above, threatening to collapse upon the weary travelers at any moment. A few times they lose the path when the drifts become insurmountable and they must go around, but through luck – or perhaps a little otherworldly assistance – all of them continue to find their way back to the trail and persevere. But they are not immune to the effects of the storm any more than their companions had been – they, too, grow bitterly cold before strangely warm and confused. They don’t even notice at first, when the storm stops; the entire world is still white and gray, broken only by the intermittent forms of their traveling companions, and even they are now near-white with snow and ice that clings to their freezing bodies. But the monotony is broken by the appearance of something dark ahead, a smudge that becomes clearer as they stumble and trudge forward.
There’s the pond: dark, a blue so dark as to be nearly black, and an undeniable heart shape that is clear from the ridge they are standing on. It’s cut into the ground and somehow not frozen, but very still and quiet. Growing from the snow between the two swells of the top of the heart is a single massive cedar tree, and hanging from its branches are the promised icicles. They fall into the same cold-induced stupor that the left-hand group had, and awaken some time later, sheltered beneath the tree’s boughs. They begin to look up at their prize, hundreds – thousands – of choices to bring back to the mountain. Some are tiny, mere nubs of ice, and they grow in size all the way to spears nearly the length of the horse’s heads. There’s beauty but danger here too – they could send lethal ice projectiles tumbling to the ground (or into each other) as they try to capture one or two icicles to take back to the mountain.
And how are they going to get them there?
@[Kolera], @[Wallace], @[leliana], @[Leilan], @[Valdis], @[litotes], @[Santana], @[Nocturne], @[Agnieszka], and @[Illum] chose the right-hand path. Now they are faced with a challenge – to bring several icicles back to the mountain – not melted.
-They still do not have traits.
-They may work together or separately.
-Entries will be judged on creativity, readability, and judge’s preference.
-A first and second place prize will be awarded for this quest.
-Round 3 entries are to be posted in this thread no later than NOVEMBER 26TH at 11:00 PM CST
-Your post should describe how they retrieve some icicles and take them to the mountain – alone, together, injured, triumphant, however.
-Failing to respond on time or at all without notifying the officials you are dropping out will result in a permanent defect
fair winds & good luck