NIGHT 023

[allthekeys]

|| THREAT DOWN

|| NIGHT 023: GENERAL Through the nightmares everyone has been trapped in, the sound of the grandfather clock echoes, distant and distorted. The large shadowy shape seen lurking hisses, retreating, and the nightmares fade away to a peaceful darkness that does not last long. The dream that follows is vivid, almost too real, although disconnected. The dreamers have no awareness of their own body or identity, nor control over it, merely existing along for the ride. The room is large, a slightly shabby, dimly lit auditorium with a stage at one side, the curtains down. Nearby the dreamer’s perspective, a worn, polished wooden bar with a range of drinks behind it covers one wall, as if part of a barroom had been fused into the auditorium with no regard for normal rules of how construction works, the darker paneling of the bar fading into the worn drywall of the theatre. An affable, nondescript man at the bar is talking amiably with a figure in a plain shirt that a few may recognize on waking as Lucas; he is hunched over the bar scowling. Two children are curled up asleep against the bar next to his stool, a preteen boy and a much smaller girl, a dark coat draped over them. A glass frog sits on the bar near where the bartender gestures as he speaks; the conversation is indistinct. Not far from the bar is a mixed, bedraggled group curled up on floor space, asleep as though exhausted, a mixture of humans and some that are less human. The few humans seem deep asleep enough that it’s questionable if they’d even respond if disturbed; there are a few familiar faces among them, some of the more notable individuals that had been residing outside the Castle, as well as several that are completely unfamiliar, in wildly varying dress; some of them show signs of twisted, nonhuman features. The twisted forms of Wallcrawlers are asleep in a heap in the same space, oddly peaceful although the creatures occasionally look up at movement or one of the sleepers stirring. The Sirens also share this space, mostly dozing, while two awake seem to be lazily keeping watch, one braiding another’s hair. The majority of the auditorium is taken up by pieces of different buildings and rooms set out as if on display, like props from a stage show save that they are noticeably stone, wood, drywall, concrete and other materials separated from their proper places. Part of a linoleum-floored cafeteria with half a benched table stands next to a velvet-lined corner with plush carpet, a wall of broken mirrors beside a half-build modern room with plastic-covered furniture. Figures walk among the pieces; a few of them look almost human, as though various other beings were trying to copy a human appearance and failing. Many did not put in the effort, living shadow and light drifting through the room in hazily humanoid shapes. A few Grey Maids can be seen working on the stage, folding up parts of it into the wall and coaxing paneling out; soon it will be as though the stage never existed at all. A figure in a white hooded robe leans against the wall near the stage, nothing visible of who or what may be under it. The dreamers’ perspective dips and turns as though to walk out, although the dream turns hazy and disjointed once they reach the door, blurring blank. Then there is a space with threadbare red carpet over wood floor that looks as though it belongs in a hallway. In place of walls and ceiling, there is black void that encroaches onto the dimly lit path of carpet; shapes can be seen shifting in the dark, occasionally forming indistinct faces or figures. Two identical women block the path, long blonde hair and close fitting red dresses, empty hands extended towards the dreamer as though offering something. They speak and move in unison, as though they are the same person echoed twice rather than separate beings. “Your prize may be great.” They laugh, identical and overlaid. “As may be the price. Will you reach?” The dream blurs again, and they are gone, the hallway replaced with a room. The ceiling is dimly lit, the walls not visible behind piles and piles of stacked paper cards, each covered in braille. A small, ancient figure, wrinkled skin sagging with grey hair fraying around his face, sits on either a stool or more piled cards in the middle, heedless of the dreamer; he picks up the cards in front of him deliberately, running fingers over them carefully before setting them aside to move on to the next one. There is a voice near the dreamer’s ear, the speaker not visible save for a flicker of orange flame. “He was a god, once, now blind and forgotten save for what is written; he reads and re-reads to remember himself, lest he vanish.” The dim room fades, and they are in the dark not-hallway again. A white rabbit sits in the center of the carpet, sitting up with its ears turned towards the dreamer; the rabbit hops a few feet past the light at the end of the carpet, into the dark void, still visible as though some light followed him. He stops, looking back expectantly, takes a few hops back to the carpet, then heads into the void after one last look to the dreamer. The dream fades to black. All who were dreaming awaken to the sound of the grandfather clock muffled through the stone walls of the Castle Servant Dormitories, echoing as it chimes nightfall. The weather is cold and clear, the chill heralding the start of winter setting in. || THE TOWN Outside, the Townsfolk are mostly subdued, keeping to their houses, rarely leaving and never doing so alone; the night air seems oppressive, with edges of a biting chill, and odd shadows move between buildings. Transparent, faintly glowing shapes are about. The Wraiths give space to any group of two or more, but will quickly gather to surround anyone alone, cornering them and drawing away bits of heat and life with every touch. Kora appears even more jumpy, though her shop has been carefully winterized and there is fresh thatch on her roof. She leaves the building onto to milk her animals and gather, and has caught an unfamiliar young woman to mind the children as she does so. The young woman appears unremarkable, though a few might know her as Ina. She has a steady hand on the cradle and whispers stories to the little ones. Her belly is thick with miderm pregnancy, and her voice is soft as she sings to them. Kora seems to have gathered the other babies to her, or at least split the labor. Zephram will be found at the Rose House but Kora has taken over looking after Kou. Tanny and Rose appear just as nervous as the others in the town. It seems from the actions of the two women that something has happened, but Rowan and Sola appear in good spirits, the younger of the two babies eager to be held away from the chill. Zephram can also be found here, learning to fletch arrows with Sil in the yard. A Black Veiled woman slips amoung the houses, and any who have borne or sired children will hear her voice as the whisper of their own children. They will find themselves inclined to follow her into the darkness, convinced their own child has called to them. Perhaps it is only fitting that she will cut their hearts from their chests in payment. || CASTLE The Castle is mostly clean and tended; a few Grey Maids drift through the halls, checking over the environs. A few Guards also patrol the halls, watchful and cautious, although they are fewer in number than usual. Everyone awakens in their original assigned beds within the Castle Servant Dormitories; their possessions, barring anything that wouldn’t fit, are cleaned, maintained, and in their trunks, their nameplates clean, polished, and clear. They are back in servant’s greys, with any other clothing they own cleaned, mended, and neatly folded within the trunks as well. A group of Merry Gentlemen have gathered in the Great Hall. Animated and lively, they seem to be having a delightful time mingling amongst themselves. They are more than willing to invite—or perhaps force—any passersby to join their merriment. The walking dead once again patrol the third floor. Their clothes are better quality now, but the same cannot be said of their half-rotten flesh. Their mouths are still sewn shut. They will attack anyone they see living, bombarding them with arms and legs. More insidious, however, is the drain of energy that begins when near them. Anyone who attempts to fight them will find themself lagging; the more dead there are, the stronger the effect. They are slow and will not chase far, but they will fight to the death. Anyone unlucky enough to get caught, naturally, will be torn to shreds. || GARDENS AND YARD The Gardens are overgrown, vines with flowers and thorns stubbornly overgrowing the walls; they remain sympathetic to anyone younger, but are difficult to navigate otherwise, paths choked with brambles and tripping roots. || THE RUINS The gate leading past the walls to the Ruins is closed and guarded. Occasional eerie howls and inhuman screeching can be heard from the darkness beyond, the fog pressing in against the gates as though the metal bars are a solid barrier. On the board in the Common Room, the chores for the night have been assigned: Dorm 18: First Floor Dorm 19: Kitchen Dorm 20: Basement Dorm 21: Second Floor Dorm 22: Groundskeeping - Yard/Road, Stables Dorm 23: Groundskeeping - Garden Dorm 24: Basement Dorm 25: Groundskeeping - Garden Dorm 26: Second Floor Dorm 27: First Floor