Day 030

[allthekeys]

|| THREAT DOWN

|| DAY 029: GENERAL Just before sunrise, the storm that’s been raging all throughout the night abruptly stops. The rain and thunder, previously intense and raging, are gone within an instant. In their sudden absence, the air seems eerily--almost unnaturally--silent. Equally abruptly, the servants will begin to feel lightheaded and faint. As if suddenly feverish, they will break out into a cold sweat; their ears start to ring, and despite the atmosphere’s objective silence, even the slightest noises start to seem almost deafening. Their vision fades out and darkens; whatever they might have been doing becomes difficult to continue on with. Within a few moments, they are overcome with an unbearable dizziness and will inevitably feel compelled to take a break. The dizziness spell is brief, lasting only for a few minutes--if even that. It doesn’t seem or feel as though they’ve lost consciousness. But when their vision clears, they are somewhere else entirely. The floor beneath them is cold, tiled, and somewhat wet, and the air is filled with an overpowering smell of chlorine. The room itself is massive, and its most distinct and noticeable feature is the fact that it’s occupied by two oversized swimming pools. Their clothes and effects are gone, replaced by simple bathrobes, all the same one-size-fits-most size. Near each is an odd, plain mask, and they find themselves with a compulsion to at least take it up, if not wear it. If worn, the masks turn into a full masquerade mask - a reflection of something familiar to the character, or something hidden about them. While worn, the bathrobe becomes a costume to match the mask, giving them something other than the loose bathrobes. For now, there are no other effects, although those wearing the masks will find them oddly comforting. Venturing outside of the pool area they have woken up in, they will find a long, wide wooden hallway that leads to the rest of what appears to be a mansion. To some, this house is unquestionably familiar. However, even those who had spent enough time there to have committed its layout to memory will find they are no longer able to effectively navigate. Although not much seems to have changed since they last saw it, they will find themselves frequently lost in its various hallways and rooms. It is curiously difficult to remember where any one particular area is, and their purposeful attempts to reach a destination will often lead them somewhere other than wherever they had intended to be. The front door, which presumably leads outside, is solidly locked. No matter how hard one might try, the lock cannot be opened, and the door cannot be broken down. In the Ballroom, several long tables hold a lavish banquet, free to any passing by. The food is a wide variety, from elaborate creations to simpler fare, some of it familiar to various ‘guests’ from their own worlds, while they may find other things of unknown or unfamiliar origin. There is the occasional sound of instruments tuning and testing in the ballroom, but no amount of inspection will locate the phantom players. The staircases that should theoretically lead to the second floor are filled with a thick layer of fog. Seeing through it is impossible, and anyone who attempts to ascend either will find that after the first few steps, it becomes all but impossible to breathe. In the Parlor, two Hellhounds lounge in front of the fire. The large, forbidding dogs are drowsy and relatively passive, nonthreatening unless provoked. The space the grandfather clock once occupied is empty, the floor and wall behind it hastily boarded over, the gaps between boards filled with caulk.