✎ vig-net:1:results [Work In Progress]

WARNING: This is a player-visible page!
====== Vig-Net Series 1 Results ======

Here is a list of all [[:vignettes|Vignettes]] that took place in [[vig-net:1|Series 1]] of [[:vig-net|Vig-Net]], with what happened.

Briefs for the latest series can be found [[vig-net:2|here]].

===== Decadent Dreams=====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:decadent_dreams.jpg?nolink&450|}}

**Scene 1**

“Esteemed merfolk! Thank you all for being present tonight!” Yells Elder Octo over a balcony as guests look up at him from the ballroom below, high ranking merpeople of all shapes and sizes adorn the crowd, from an imposing white jellyfish whose tendrils billow gently with the current to lurking merchants in the corners of the room, “Allow me to extend my thanks to the citizens of Atlantia in particular, may our joint merry be a symbol of fruitful relationships to come!” he raises a glass, and the guests join in, cheering as they mark the start of this high profile evening of indulgence, away from the prying eyes of their kingdoms at war. A war that the royal families hoped to stop one day in favour of a much more beneficial trade relationship. Elder Octo was hopeful that tonight’s party would kick start that process, giving not only the court officials but the people of Atlantia a reason beyond commercial ones to believe in Coral Reef and what it could give them. 

Coral Reef balls are loud and colorful, full of ale and copious amounts of food stacked in the center of the room. Elder Octo seems to be looking for his son, Prince Flowerhorn, hoping to quell his rambunctious tendencies by giving him a task. He finds the young prince looking over the tower of food in awe, with a gentle hand on his shoulder, he gives the boy a bag of seashells.

 The elderly man urges the boy along his way. Manta was found easily – distinguishable by sleek black fins and a barbed tail trailing around as she walks. Prince Flowerhorn clumsily swims up to the small girl, tapping her on the shoulder. He is greeted by eyes filled with so much life he felt his breath catching in his throat. He was so enchanted that he almost forgot to give her the shells, bowing he said “A present, from my kingdom. We give girls shells from our shores – they’re really pretty” He had not yet learned subtler ways of speaking, but it seemed like the princess didn’t mind. Her sharp yet handsome features crackled into a wide smile, reflected in those expressive eyes. She took the bag and looked inside, “Thank you!” she exclaimed as she tied the bag to the side of her belt. 

“do you also give girls adventures?”
 
The prince was taken aback. 

“w-what?” 

“You know, you give girls shells, which are pretty and all but I want an adventure! Do you have those instead?” She held out a single shell from the bag to the Prince like it was currency exchangeable for that experience. 

The prince found himself flabbergasted by this notion, nobody in his kingdom had ever spoken to him like this before. He looked around for ideas, settling on the tower of food in the center of the room, representing the bountiful harvests in coral reef. The Princess followed his eyes, “The food tower is so cool!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up all over again. “How did you get it?” 

Every time she got excited, the prince was in awe, Such pure joy wasn’t something he’d ever seen… how could someone be so enthusiastic about everything? “Um… we made it?” 

“How??” 

“Uh… we have chefs, in the kitchen… that make the food, and then they-

“That’s awesome! Can I see??” 

“See… the kitchen?” 

“Yeah!” 

“But… it’s just a kitchen, it’s a normal kitchen, it’s not really an adventure…” 

“But they made such a huge food tower! They must be special! I wanna see I wanna see!” 

The Prince final agreed. not quite so sure how the kitchen was that special, but it’s not like he had any other ideas. He took her by the wrist, and led her out one of the side doors to the basement, where a bustling kitchen was churning out canapes. They stopped short as they spotted the children – a slippery Eel tail came before them, bending down to reveal a man with blown back hair. “Hello there,” he greeted. 

“Where is the food tower!” demanded the princess, making the eel man laugh. 

“Ah! You mean the centerpiece. Well – it doesn’t just appear out of nowhere you know, we have to make it” the eel explained.

“That sounds like a lot of work…” pondered the small Prince beside her. The kitchen was too warm, and smelt not half as food as the finished food upstairs, these guys must have a hard job. 

“Sometimes, but it’s really worth it you know.” Chimed in another voice in the back belonging to a stout man with a lumpy, yet wide sliver tail. “you get to see the smiles on people’s faces when they see it, or eat it.” He poured a pot of stew into a large, wide bowl – and the sight made Manta’s face light up all over again. 

She was so strange. And yet those looks must be what that man was talking about. 

“Would you like to give it a go my Prince?” The Eel interrupted as both children stared at the head chef. “it’s not that hard.” 

The two nodded, and the Eel brought them up to sit on the counter. “I’m Sous Chef Electric Eel by the way, but people just call me Eel.” 

They soon also learned that the man pouring stew was head chef Dory, and that he had many plates of small crackers that would become canapes for the night. Eel had mixed a seafood puree and taught the prince how to pipe it onto the crackers by holding his hands from behind, forming neat dollops of blue green in the process, carefully controlling the prince’s hand movement, they ended up far neater than the prince could have done on his own. 

“See, cooking is easy!” exclaimed Sous Chef Eel with a pat on the Prince’s back as Manta placed little garnishes on top. The boy stared in awe at the exceptional handiwork that was most definitely not his own, not like he had to know that though. The prince had to admit, he did feel a little proud of what he had done. 

Manta’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as she picked up a canape with a perfect swirl, “it’s sooooo pretty!” she exclaimed, munching down on the delicious snack. The chefs smiled warmly. 

“You got potential kid” started the Eel with a hand on the Prince’s shoulder, “we could really use a hand like you around here, what do you say you come down whenever you got time. We could always use your help.” 

This had been a very unusual day for Prince Flowerhorn. First, this girl came crashing into his life like a hurricane, and now praise? He didn’t know what to make of it, but it was worth coming here again at least once, if only to escape his overbearing father. Though he had to admit, between Manta’s wide smile and Eel’s willingness to teach him, together with what he thought was natural talent, he kind of feel like this kitchen was where he belonged. 

Though Elder Octo could not find his son for the rest of the night, it comforted him to know that even Atlantia’s first Princess was missing, meaning that they might be together somewhere, and thus, his long term plan had succeeded. Or so he thought. 

**Scene 2**

Manta and Flowerhorn, Princess and Prince, grew up together. Since the ball, Manny would always whine that she would like to go to coral reef, and Elder Octo’s house telephone was ringing every few days with the ask of yet another playdate to set up. Soon enough, Elder Octo and Atlantia’s king had decided on their betrothal. One to bind their kingdoms together with a treaty of peace knowing that they had much more to gain from each other than to fight, as the people of their respective kingdoms still believed. Perhaps a marriage, one between two childhood best friends who had every reason for their love to grow organically, would placate the masses, urging them against war.

 As the adults made these difficult and life changing decisions, the lives of their children were carefree. Together, Manny and Flowerhorn would sneak off to the kitchen, where they would make sea jelly and clam chowder under the watchful, encouraging eyes of Head Chef Dory and Sous Chef Eel. Once they were old enough, Elder Octo decided they should engage in some more respectable hobbies instead of “adventuring” all day, as Manny called it, and so he hired them both a Fencing Coach. Under the contacts of Atlantia’s royal family, they recommended one of their ex-soldiers who had retired to fencing in his older age, a man who was precise as he was strict, technique unwavering as the point of his long barbed nose. Perfect for the rebellious duo. 

Manny took to the hobby much faster than Flowerhorn did, as she had a penchant for all things physical. Though, she did feel bad for her best friend as Flowerhorn, however decent, always dreamt too much about if white sauce would work with scallop salad to focus on lessons, this often earned him long lectures from Elder Octo. Though this wasn’t always the case, as they got older, there were several fights where Flowerhorn had won.

During one match, he had carefully parried Manny’s fencing weapon of choice, her tail, in order to strike her as she was open. Elder Octo, who happened to be watching this match, applauded. Later congratulating his son on improving vastly since he last saw him fence. He also complimented his future bride, knowing that her skills and determination would be a great asset to Coral Reef’s royal court.

 As they grew older, Manny preferred to fence than to be in the kitchen, while Flowerhorn wanted every opportunity to turn raw ingredients into mouth-watering meals. It was no help that Sous Chef Eel was always inviting him to prepare food for the servants. Elder Octo caught onto this hobby, though, he was not as unhappy as the servants thought he might be. Instead, he told his son that so long as he kept up his responsibilities, regular meetings with the court officials and fencing classes, perhaps it was alright for him to cook, once in a while. 

**Scene 3**

Back in Atlantia, Princess Manta had often pondered over what Swordfish had told her after that fencing match. Was there something she could change? Does she have the power to change it?  He had given her a few tips, or at least, she thought he had, perhaps she was reading too far into it… 

Her days of fencing and kitchen raiding quickly fell behind her as the wedding approached and she was more often bombarded with the need to taste a potential wedding cake, ones not as good as those Flowerhorn could make. Or to choose flowers, ones for a ceremony that wasn’t hers in spirit anyway. Today, it was time for a dress fitting, in a wedding gown that she did not make or choose herself. 

Manny had been annoyed as she was ushered away from the fencing grounds to her room, complaining that this could wait until her lessons were over, and that she was too sweaty to try on this stupid dress. Her complains however were interrupted by a sweet, soft smile. One from her royal chambermaid, Grey. The grey whale merwoman held the white dress laid in two hands, ready for her to try on as the door to her own room closed behind her. 

“H-Hey…” she started, feeling her face heat up. 

Why was she so nervous? 

Normally, she was confident, bright and challenging to all she met, even those beyond her rank. And yet, to this soft, kind lady she had always been held by the tongue, not that she minded. In her life, Manny crashed through every opportunity she met, operating at volumes nine out of ten and yet this one smile cracked that resolve – it was admirable to her. 

As she took the dress from her maid’s hands, she felt as if there was nothing expected of her – there was nothing she needed to give because herself was enough. In the light that illuminated the ocean behind them she felt at ease with Grey’s smile. An ease that she could spend an eternity with. 

Unfortunately, it was an eternity that ended every time she had to face reality again. 

“How are you Manny?” ask Chambermaid Grey  as softly as everything else she did. Her voice was full of a gentle and sincere sort of kindness that Manny had not known from anyone else. It made her heart stop for a second. 

“I’m… good, how about you?” 

Grey giggled knowingly and the scenery outside her room fell away to black as Manny’s mind rang with nothing that sweet song, “You know as well as I do that you can’t lie to me Manny… what’s really been on your mind?” 

Grey felt like she could ask her princess anything without any restraint, for as convicted and determined Manny was, she always found time to listen to everybody with patience beyond her years. Something that Grey very much appreciated, especially when she had just started working in the palace and was so shy she would barely speak a word. Manny would be the only person who never dismissed her, she would stay, and wait, wait until Grey felt it okay to speak, and speak her mind at that.

Manny slipped into the dress, a gaudy white affair that did not suit her sleek tail at all. It hid her hip fins with a billowing ballgown complete with a bow at the back. Grey began the complicated process towards tying it while Manny spoke. “It’s just that, Flowerhorn is great and all… but, I cannot bring myself to love him. At least not the kind of love that would be destined for marriage.” 

A direct princess as always. Another thing Grey admired about her, she wished she could be so confident, a confidence that had long since pierced its way through the walls of her heart with its boldness, one that even the most reclusive lover could not deny entry to. 

“And why not? He is your best friend, not to mention handsome, and an excellent cook. All great traits in a future husband…” 

“But that’s the thing Grey!” Manny exclaimed, “he’s my best friend! I have no such feelings for him… He’s a goofy guy, with his head in the clouds and while those things are great in a friend… it’s not something that… makes my heart race you know?” Manny turned around to face her maid, “you know…?”

Grey finished tying the huge bow behind Manny’s dress, and gingerly looked up, coming face to face with those huge eyes, ones that burned with a fire warmer than any hearth. Ones that were so intense that they made the most hardened officials step down and yet to her had always felt like home. “Well…” Grey began, unconsciously taking Manny’s hands in her own. 

“What does make your heart race?” 

“I don’t know…” Manny lied, “Someone who… I can rely on. Someone steadfast yet not arrogant… someone down to earth, kind… and selfless…”

Grey nodded, listening intently to her Princess wishing so much that they could be something more.

Manny thought back to her breeding, she should not say any more. Her loyalty lies only to her kingdom, and it should not waver. She had worked so hard to be the best ruler she could be and yet, yet she had a beating heart. One that now strained against responsibility and want. She had spent so long with her guard up that right now, in this intimate moment she supposed she could afford to utter something selfish. Something that no one should ever hear not because her kingdom would revolt but because these words should be for one person and one person only… 

“Someone… I guess someone like you…” Her voice got softer and softer as she continued, and Grey’s face blushed as red as Chef Dory’s when he had a few too many pints of ale. Manny was not much better. 

“Oh my… Princess I…” 

“Call me Manny” 

“Manny I… I must say…” 

At that moment, the door burst open, and the girls pulled their hands away. “Princess!” A panting servant exclaimed. “I’m sorry to interrupt you but…. But we just got a call from Elder Octo and it seems that the Prince… Prince Flowerhorn has gone missing!” 

Manny looks worryingly at Grey, who, with a panicked look on her face, quickly pushes past the servant that barged in and leaves the room.

**Scene 4**

The night before, Elder Octo was pacing down the mansion hallways. Unlike the towering buildings of Atlantia, his home was wide, with long corridors between wings of the mansion, overlooking the sprawling reef beyond. Occasionally colourful schools of fish would swim across the glass, tinting the hues of moonlight that shone on the terracotta floor tiles. 

 As Elder Octo admired the view he had not paid such attention to where he was going, soon finding himself hurling towards the floor at top speed. As he fell, he braced himself as to not smash his face against the tile to no avail. 

“I’m so sorry!” cried a servant from behind him. As the Elder turned around with a bleeding nose, he saw a hazy vision of an anglerfish in a trench coat with an ominous, playing card-like bait dangling off a hooked appendage stemming from his forehead. The servant was holding a stack of towels, turning towards the vig-net camera, the anglerfish winks. 

Elder Octo intended to stand up to yell at the clumsy servant, but as he blinked a few more times, clearing up his vision, the servant was gone. Leaving the Elder to painstakingly get up himself. 

Meanwhile, Flowerhorn is once again in the kitchen, helping bake his own wedding cake, as he slices layers, he sighs. “Why…” he mutters more to himself than anyone else, even though the others hear it. “I love Manny… but… I love her enough to know I don’t want to marry her. Why is father so insistent…” 

 “What ya thinking about lad?” Boomed Head Chef Dory from behind him. Flowerhorn looked up, realizing that he’d been dreaming for far too long. 

As he turned around, he found not only Chef Dory, but most of the other kitchen staff. They were not in their uniforms, but dark cloaks with hoods, with rucksacks on their shoulders and lanterns by their side. 

“It’s time to go.”

“What… are you guys, going somewhere?” the puzzled prince responded, frosting spreader in hand.

“Well, Seabass found us a hideout for a few days, so we’re going to chill there until a plot opens up.” 

“Ye. It’s time to blow this joint!” The kitchen staff chatter over each other, confusing the prince even further. 

“What… what are you saying? Are you leaving? Elder Octo will have your necks!” The Prince carried on frantically, what will father say if… or when, he finds his entire kitchen staff abandoned right before the royal wedding? He didn’t want to deal with the backlash of that. 

“Not if he can’t find us.” 

“C’mon Flowerhorn” Head Chef Dory pulled out a book, “you can’t keep anything from us you know,” he extends the rattled diary to the Prince. Who responds in alarm by snatching the book back from them, 

“My diary! How did you get this!” 

“slipped out of your back pocket one day, found it on the floor.” One slippery eel commented. 

Head Chef Dory walks up to Flowerhorn, one large hand on his shoulder, “listen kid, I, we know you’ve wanted this for a long time. You’re sad here, and you’re actually not half bad at cooking, plus, you got a dream. A dream that the rest of us here got too.” He helps Flowerhorn open up his diary to the page containing detailed plans and recipes for his restaurant, Flowerhorn looks behind the Head Chef, and see the rest of the crowd nodding. 

“I… I don’t know what to say I…” 

“You don’t gotta say anything, just pack a bag. You’ll need some warm clothes.” Dory replied. 

“I can’t leave.” The Prince retorted. “what about father, he’ll come looking for me! We’ll never get that far before he sends his horsemen, then it’s off with your heads, you do know that right?” 

There is a rather hearty slap on his back, one given by Sous Chef Eel, “got that all taken care of Princey. Don’t you worry, Elder Octo won’t come after you for a while, if he comes at all.” 

The Prince’s confusion morphs into a gratitude for the Sous Chef, and for all of the kitchen staff. Never did he think he would have a chance to do something… something quite like this. 

“So? What are you waiting for kid, go grab your stuff, we ride in an hour.” 

“But- 

Head Chef Dory grabs Prince Flowerhorn by the shoulders “Look, Flowerhorn, you spend so much of your time dreaming, you dream and you dream and you write everything down and yet. What? You think you can just sit around in here and let this hard work go to waste? C’mon. For once, just once, do something, anything, to make what you want a reality.” The chef shakes the Prince’s shoulders, “she doesn’t want to marry you anyway, you’ll be doing Manny a favor. And we all know you don’t want this life by a long shot.” 

The prince stares a long time at the older chef, then with a glance and nod at sous chef Eel, he reaches to his head and chucks off his circlet crown. 

Soon the kitchen staff and Prince Flowerhorn, inconspicuous in black cloaks, sneak out to the stables past the royal guards, asleep in the dead of night. Careful not to wake them, they mount their horses and soundlessly ride off into the night. 

It’s not until next morning, the day of the wedding that Elder Octo discovers they’re missing. “What is the meaning of this!” He yells as he orders the servants around the palace to find Prince Flowerhorn, while he himself heads down to the one place where he’s most likely to find the boy. 

He bursts through the kitchen door only to find sous chef Eel, calmly washing dishes while a completed wedding cake stands with a box over it, as not to get damaged before the ceremony. “Where is he!” the Elder booms, tentacles scurrying with purpose across the floor. 

“Your son is gone great Elder” says Eel, reddening Octo’s face. 

“I know that you scum!” he spits, “what I WANT to know is WHERE! I’ve been planning this wedding for years I tell you, years! And he has to be in Atlantia in merely 4 hours!” 


**Scene 5**

As the staff of Elder Octo’s mansion continued to fret over the disappearance of their prince, Atlantia’s palace had been busy with preparations while civilians crowded outside, eagerly awaiting the marriage of a century. One which had since given them hope, clouded their minds with the possibility of love between star cross lovers, urging them to put down their swords for the sake of the happy couple. It should work, so long as they actually tie the knot at the end, driving both kingdoms into a long and storied celebration that would go down in history. 

 Manta and Grey made their way to the barred off wedding venue, though outdoors – civilians were only allowed to look through the iron gates, with the upper class from both Atlantia and Coral reef invited inside to witness the ceremony up close. Guards stood by the gates, keeping the crowd placated from too much excited yelling over the happy occasion. Manny stood in the shadows behind the open front door of Atlantia’s palace, where she was to walk down the steps onto the aisle. Close to the iron gates was the Altar, where the merpreist stood, ready to commence the ceremony, but Flowerhorn was nowhere to be found. 

The guests waited, and waited. 

The crowd started to chatter.

Not Elder Octo nor the Prince had shown up. Whispers passed themselves around, what had happened? Was this a hoax? The Prince was going to come right? 

Manny took a deep breath, now was the time. Out of the pockets of her god awful ballgown she pulled out a card and held it close to her chest. 

“Time for this ship to sail” she whispers to herself as she steps out into the diffuse sunlight. 

“Esteemed Merfolk!” She boomed, turning all heads in the crowd towards her. “Reefians and Atlantians alike I extend my greats thanks that you could make it here today. However! As you can see, Prince Flowerhorn is not here. And the reason he isn’t here is because I cannot marry him!” 

Gasps filter through the crowd, and the merpeople outside extend their heads to see what’s going on.

“You see, Flowerhorn is by best friend, but I cannot say I love him!” A cry of outrage, and the garuds motion people to settle down. 

“To marry him here today would be the biggest lie I ever told, and I cannot afford my subjects, much less the subjects of Coral Reef such slander!” 

“Ask yourselves my good merfolk! Would you want a marriage for peace when that marriage itself has no love?” Mummers spread through the crowd, and men have taken off their hats in respect, “Would you want an empty union? I ask her as my barest self… If the nobles of Coral Reef would allow me to respectfully decline Flowerhorn’s hand, and instead marry the merperson I love, I would be eternally grateful! And that, the right for me choose my own path, will be the greatest gift Coral Reef could ever, ever give me!” 

The crowd is stunned into silence at such a notion.

“But! I know that, despite it all, you came for a wedding, isn’t that right?” 

The people outside the gates cheer, some even shout obscenities as they get rowdier at this turn of events. 

“Well, I can give you one! Because it just so happens that the love of my life is here right now! And if you would allow it, people of Coral Reef and Atlantia, I would like to marry her!” 

She takes another step out onto the altar, and reaching behind her, she pulls Grey onto the carpet with her. The Chambermaid’s hands are cold as ice, but as Manny grasps it, it gains confidence. The two girls walk, hand in hand to the altar, Manny dragging Grey along. As she gets to the end, Manny holds both of Grey’s hands in hers, like they have down so many times alone. 

“Chambermaid Grey.” 

Another wave of shock amongst the audience. 

“Will you please, do me the honour of marrying me, right here?” 

The shivering maid in her bridesmaid’s dress stutters out a barely audible, yet amongst the near silent crowd, it was heard, a very soft, yet excited “y-yes…” she cries, tears streaming down her face. As it is uttered, the crowd can’t help but cheer. Even the ones who have opposed the wedding, such a sight of unadulterated love would have grabbed anyone’s heartstrings. 

With that response, Manny throws her card into the air and gets down on one knee. The card floats high above the entire venue. In an ancient gesture of commitment and respect amongst her people, Manny takes Grey’s right hand, and presses the back of it to her forehead, showing the upmost submission to her bride. 

At this, the card explodes like a giant party popper, releasing colourful ocean fish, confetti, flower petals and wave of creative magic upon the entire scene. Manny’s ballgown transforms into a sleek wedding dress with a train and cutouts for her hip fins. A veil takes its place on Grey’s head, flowers around the entire garden bloom and the crowd cheers as fish swarm all around them. There is a standing ovation amongst the guests. 

The remnants of the card filter down as a set of rings, which land on the pillow of the ring bearer, prompting the merpreist to recite the ceremonial wedding vows, allowing the girls to be officially wed. They share a kiss, driving the crowd to a frenzy once more, with a chant for them both, one so loud that it overwhelms any nay sayers amongst them. 

As they sit down once more, Sous Chef Eel stands up from his chair in the periphery, amongst staff. “I would just like to say, as a Coral Reef Native, even if I am not of a high rank, my congratulations to both of you. At least to me, it is a sign that we merpeople remain unrestrained by any power to pursue whatever our hearts desire. On behalf of Coral Reef I would like to thank you, for sharing such a moment with us, and showing us all here!” 

He gestures to the crowd around the iron gates “That love is real, and that we, the people are free!”  The crowd cheers. 

“I agree my good man!” 

Another voice closer to the altar booms out. Fencing Coach Swordish stands up, “I would even go so far as to say that if Flowerhorn and Manny were to marry today it would be False form of collaboration between nations, and this here is a more potent, real union made with real bonds!” 

At this, the crowd’s cheers are less in celebration of the two girls but instead how now become… awry. Speckled with betrayal and skepticism 

“Do you mean to say that Atlantia intended to force this false union to placate its people?” Another voice chimes in. 

“Yeah, was this all a hoax to shield our eyes from the real issues?” 

“If the monarchs can’t take responsibility, then people suffer!” 

"If we were truly free, why aren't we free from you lot!"

As more and more outrageous claims are made, a billowing white jellyfish bursts onto the scene, sword in one hand and clad in a Atlantian’s court official’s uniform. He holds up a card and presses it to his chest, allowing his body to absorb it, a wave spreads across the scene once more, and all heads turn attention to this figure. 

“The people are right Princess Manta!” He places a hand on his hip, right above his sword, “If Flowerhorn cannot keep himself responsible, then why should you be following in his footsteps!”  

“yeah!” scream the civilians outside. “Do you guys think you can do whatever you want? Royals have responsibilities too!” 

“Exactly!” The imposing man replies. “If you speak of such freedom, freedom to love whoever you want, then surely the people should also have their own freedoms… and yet they sit behind your iron gates!” 

"Freedom for the people!" 

"Freedom from a useless monarchy!"

The Crowd behinds to boo and shake the bars they have been restrained against, to the point where the guards are having trouble keeping them contained. Even those that were in such favour before find themselves questioning their motives in lieu of this mysterious yet righteous hero of the day. 

“Sir. Sir please calm down…” Grey starts, but the jellyfish is having none of it. 

“Your love may be more potent and real now, but there remains a promise to your people! A promise of a marriage which you have broken because of your own selfish reasons! Love or not!” 

The guards standing right in front of the gate hand started to draw their shields up against the merpeople banging against the bars. 

Manny shuffles Grey behind her, and readies her tail. 

“Sir please! I emplore you, stop this nonsense, it is a happy occasion, and true love is something that all people can relate to, it is a symbol of happiness!” Fencing Coach Swordfish begins to urge against the mysterious Jellyfish.

“Aren’t we all just a little irresponsible in our happiness?” 

“Nay!” 

The Jellyfish draws his sword, and Swordfish draws his own rapier in return, “Monarchy have luxuries the peasants do not, and such! They need to make sacrifices! Ones that bind them to their kingdom! Flowerhorn has betrayed his, and so has Princess Manta!” 

He man points his sword accusingly to the young bride.

Manta grits her teeth, who was this official? She didn’t remember seeing him before, moreover his words were tearing the crowd apart. A crowd that was supposed to be hers to govern, hers to control and please. 

Well not anymore. 

“I have been bold enough to follow my heart! And will fight for my right to love who I please!” She yells, flicking her tail in response towards the courtly jellyfish, beckoning for a match.

With that the crowd outside can no longer we contained and the iron gates burtst open –merpeople of all walks of life, Atlantian and Reefian alike of life rush into the venue, attacking their very own monarchy. 

“In the name of freedom!” They yell. Thinking that if they were truly free, they should be free from the irresponsible royals that rule them. 

“Viva la Revolution!” 
</spoiler>

===== Flight of the Sparrow =====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:flight_of_the_sparrow.jpg?nolink&450|}}

**Scene 1**

Sparrow wakes up cocooned in blankets as golden sunlight filters in through the window, feeling like she might finally have time to relax. There isn't even a dagger hidden under her pillow these days. Terton Mills just feels like the sort of place where bad things could never happen, and now, with all her friends gathered around, her old adventures and losses seem like distant memories. As she heads out to see if there's anything she can do to help in the fields, a courier jogs up to her, panting.

"Miss Sparrow! Miss Sparrow! The royal court of Alcar sends an urgent missive. We need your help!" he gasps, handing over the envelope. She reads it with increasing alarm, and quickly sets off to gather her companions for the quest.

Sparrow, Tall James, Kiggerat Helmsmasher, Odilon the Wise with his new apprentice Perenei the Slightly Less Wise, and the courier (who seems to have tagged along) gathered around the table in Sparrow's living room as Sparrow paces and reads out the letter in an excellent impression of the King of Alcar's voice. It makes James giggle until Odilon gives both of them a hard glare.

"Esteemed Lady Sparrow etcetera etcetera. I know I will never be able to repay you the debt of gratitude I already owe for the services you have rendered to my kingdom, but I'm afraid I am forced to call on you again as there is nobody else I know I can trust with such an important mission as this. A great dragon the like of which we have never seen has invaded Alcar's northern province, slaughtering our garrisons and terrifying the populace. It demands that we surrender our remaining fortifications to it and accept it as our eternal leige-lord. In the regions it has already taken, those who survive suffer terribly, and I can't bring myself to accept, but don't think we have the strength to refuse. Where armies have failed, our last hope is that you may be able to defeat it, though I know not how. I don't know how long we have before the violence will resume. Your humble servant, King Eris II of Alcar"

Finishing the letter, sparrow sighs, looking dejected. "I thought now the End Cult were gone, we might finally have some peace. I've come to love this place, this quaint way of life. It feels more like a home than anywhere since my parents were killed."

"Ah, but Sparrow", Odilon says, "you have a good heart. You know your conscience wouldn't let you sleep while you know there are people you could save."

"Of course I won't ignore this plea, I just wish... things could have been different. I wish I didn't have to keep uprooting all of us. I'll go prepare my pack."

And so they all set about preparing to leave this pleasant life for who knows what sort of danger, saying goodbye to those they would be leaving behind. It takes scarcely two hours before they are back on the outskirts of the village, ready to leave. The apprentice Perenei checks that everyone has packed everything they need, and is worried to find that neither Sparrow nor James has any clothes appropriate for appearing in court. Despite Sparrow's protests that nobody has ever objected to her appearance in court before, Perenei sets about chanting for more elaborate formal clothing, befitting for someone of Sparrow's rank.

Sparrow and James's clothes quickly grow more elaborate and decorated, with ruffles, trains and lace making them both quite uncomfortable. James tries to help Sparrow untangle some of the new decorations, only for their clothes to grow into each other, becoming thoroughly stuck. Odilon arrives and stops Perenei, reprimanding him to never pray for such trivial things as it angers the gods, but James and Sparrow are already quite stuck. She tries to cut some of the cloth away, but finds it exceptionally tough. Seeing what's happened, Perenei starts apologising profusely, offering to help, but seems to only end up getting them tangled worse. He cautiously mentions that the clothes might be slightly cursed, to Sparrow's alarm, but nobody seems to be in immediate danger, only stuck together. 

Also they can both only use one arm each. 

Resigning themselves to the experience, they awkwardly both mount the same horse, and the party sets off.

**Scene 2**

The party are clearly travelling along a road, presumable to the royal court, but the scenery is lacking in detail. This scene seems unfinished. 

Suddenly, some hooded figures jump out from... somewhere, and stop the party in their tracks.

"This quest goes no further, little bird. Our master is the lord of the air, and you are not fit even to enter his presence, let alone pose him any threat. We'll save you the trouble of dying at his hand." and at that, they attack.

Kiggerat immediately jumps into combat, but everyone else seems distracted. Odilon is trying to protect Sparrow and James, who are looking more vulnerable than usual, his apprentice is trying to protect him, and Sparrow and James are trying to work out how to fight in their stuck-together clothes. Sparrow is unable to reach her sword, and can't use her bow one-handed, meanwhile James frantically tries to recall combat spells whose gestures only require one hand. Giving up, he instead instructs Sparrow to do the left-hand gestures while he does the right, and in an impressive feat of teamwork they cast a fireball together, frying two cultists who were about to defeat the apprentice, whose elven martial arts weren't holding up against such well-armed opponents.

With the cultists all dead, Sparrow looks amazed. "I cast a spell. I cast a spell! We got them without any weapons!". Kiggerat pointedly looks at the two cultists caught in the fireball and the much larger number with slash wounds from her axe. "Yes. You killed two of them. Congratulations." James and Sparrow ignore her sarcasm and dance around in a circle, hugging each other. 

"Is that how spells normally feel? That was amazing."

"I've never cast quite like that before, but I can try to teach you the normal way if you like? We wouldn't get to fireballs for a while, but even low-level spells can be pretty useful."

"Oh, would you? That sounds great! You're the best, James."

Unseen by Sparrow as her face is buried against his chest, a bright blush appears on James's cheeks. 

"Yes, it should be fun. It'll be hard work, but I think you have what it takes. You can be so stubborn sometimes." 

Now it's Sparrow's turn to blush.

**Scene 3**

As they arrive at the castle, Sparrow and the party find the court in turmoil, as heated arguments about how to deal with the dragon problem fly in all directions. It isn't even known where the dragon is based. Eventually, the king convenes a formal session and calms the discussion down so everyone can at least hear what's being said. He summarises the situation to get everyone up to speed. Sparrow and James, close by necessity anyway, spend much of the conversation whispering to each other and occasionally laughing, earning disappriving looks from the court.

Although Sparrow points out that she has access to certain potent artefacts that would make defeating the dragon sound at least conceivable, if not likely, there are some among the court who would still prefer to step down gracefully and avoid all the chaos and unnecessary suffering that going to war with the dragon would cause. This idea is eventually defeated by Odilon, who gives a rousing speech on how giving in to threats of violence, no matter how scary the threats are, will only invite more such threats in the future, and how it's our duty to show those like the dragon that this isn't a good way of getting what they want. Once everyone has parsed the confusing way Odilon phrased his advice, discussion moves on to how they're actually going to defeat the dragon.

Half an hour later, the discussion has made only a little progress, and Odilon topples sideways from his seat. Sparrow (with James in tow) rushes over to help, but even while struggling for breath, Odilon explains that it's far too late to stop the poison now, but Sparrow tearfully insists that surely this isn't the end, surely there's some way they can bring him back. 

Odilon sadly explains that no, now is his time and he's definitely dying for real. The gods had sent him back before because of the exceptional need, but Sparrow has grown so much that she'll get on fine without him, not matter how much it may not feel like it, and he's proud to have been Sparrow's friend. His apprentice on the other hand is definitely not yet ready to finish training, and should find a new master right away before he blows anything up.

**Scene 4**

The party, sans Odilon, set off in the direction of the dragon's domain. It's an unusually uneventful road trip, and James takes the time to start teaching Sparrow the basics of sorcery. The apprentice Perenei (who has stuck around despite his master's condemnation) tries to help too, but they wisely ignore his advice. Sparrow and James already spend plenty of time together, but with this new ridiculous physical bond between them and plenty of time to discuss anything they feel like, they grow even closer, talking more intimately than before. They often stay up late by the campfire at night, chatting and snuggling together for warmth.

**Scene 5**

Having, uh, found some clues on the road or something  leading them to an ancient dungeon, the party enter said ancient dungeon in search of more clues. There are pitfall traps, poison darts and crushing boulders galore. Kiggerat has to repeatedly save the apprentice from running blindly into traps while Sparrow and James struggle to get through with their limited mobility. 

While three-legged-racing away from a rapidly closing spike corridor, James completely fails to notice an axe swinging tiwards his head. Sparrow yanks him sideways and sweeps them both off their feet just as they run over the edge of a snake pit, which they acrobatically twist over in mid-air before landing awkwardly on the floor on the other side, with Sparrow lying on top of James. 

They both burst out laughing from relief and excitement, looking into each others eyes, they slowly lean in for a kiss. 

It seems like the sort of moment that should have triumphant music, but this is meant to be a novel. 

They linger for a while, eyes closed, until Kiggerat awkwardly coughs and reminds them that they're still in a deadly dungeon and they should really get moving.

It isn't much longer before they find what they came here for, the ancient scroll that would have informed them of how the dragon defeated the others of its kind, back when it was young, and rose to such power in the first place. Unfortunately, the ancient language it's written in is an obscure one, and the apprentice guiltily admits to not keeping up with his ancient tome lessons.
</spoiler>

===== Foundation of Secrets =====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:foundation_of_secrets.png?nolink&450|}}

**Scene 1**

“Can I ask you some questions about Mr Ericsson’s death, Detective? For the //Gazette//.”

Detective Kesler sighs. “I’ve given the official statement already, Miss Dupont. It was an animal attack. Most likely a bear, though we can’t rule out the possibility of an escaped exotic pet.”

“Like a tiger?”

“We… can’t rule that out, no.”

“The body was torn open, correct? Wouldn’t you say that level of savagery goes beyond an animal attack?”

“Well you should know how dangerous bears can be at this time of year. They’ll try to eat anything they can before hibernation.”

“Yes, but nothing //was// eaten, was it? Or at least, //almost// nothing. Is it true you never found Mr Ericsson’s heart?”

---

Three people sit around a picnic table outside a dilapidated truck stop. They’re not truckers, or at least, they’re not here on work – they all arrived together in a plain van. An unusual variety of bags and pouches on them or lying around their feet. Most of them have scars, and a couple have tattoos just visible behind the cuffs and collars of sensible jackets. Hikers, perhaps – they certainly have the look of people who spend a lot of time outside. They also have a look about them that dissuades most people from asking further questions. 

One of them, Antonio, is typing away on a battered but sturdy-looking laptop. Ylva is flicking through an old book while sipping on a cheap coffee. Melissa has a canvas tool-roll spread open in front of her while she sharpens a long knife with a honing steel. This might be the main reason why people don’t ask questions.

The fourth member of the group, Xavier, walks over from a newspaper kiosk.

“Got anything for us?” Asks Ylva.

“Seems pretty quiet for the most part. But I did find this: it’s a local paper from a town a few miles from here.” Xavier tosses a newspaper down onto the table between the others. 

“//Fox Lake Gazette//…” Ylva skims over the article, “Vicious animal attack… heart missing?”

“Yeah. And when they say vicious, they mean it. Took them hours to clean up the body.”

“Hmm. Let’s check it out.”

**Scene 2**

“Thank you for your time, Detective.”

Ylva, Xavier, Melissa and Antonio step out of the small police station, pulling their coats tighter around them against the autumn chill.

“Hi – I’m Amelie Dupont, with the //Fox Lake Gazette//. You’re new in town aren’t you? Could I ask you some questions about what brings you here? I’m writing a piece on tourism for the //Gazette//.”

The four turn to see a young woman with a pen and notepad. Despite her apparent cheerful and innocent demeanour, her eyes dart suspiciously from one person to the next, taking in every detail of their expressions, bags, clothing. The four are carrying notably less than they were at the truck stop, though. Anything that might have seemed out of place before has either been removed or carefully covered with long sleeves and turned-up collars.

“Family business.”

“Oh – you knew Mr Ericsson? I’m sorry.” Amelie pauses for a second. “I didn’t think he had any family near here.”

“Yeah, well, James probably didn’t talk about us much. Not after…” Ylva looks away. Antonio gently puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Something happened between you? But still, you’re here, so soon after he passed – you must still have cared about him?”

Ylva brushes a tear from her cheek. “Look, we’d appreciate it if we could stay here without having a journalist ask us too many questions. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“Sorry – old habits. I’ll let you get on with your day.”

---

“That journalist sure was curious. Do you think she knows something?” Says Xavier, back at the guesthouse where the four have rented a couple of rooms.

“Amelie…she’s the one who wrote the article, isn’t she? Definitely thinks something’s up, but I don’t think she has any real evidence to go on. Just a real good reporter’s hunch.” Replies Ylva.

“Yeah, good job there Ylva – didn’t know you could act like that. I think you might actually have convinced her to stay off our tail.” Says Antonio.

“Thanks. She didn’t seem the type to be cowed by intimidation, so I thought I’d try a different tack. At least you had the foresight to leave most of the gear behind. I don’t think even the greatest sob story in the world would put her off if she saw anything she couldn’t explain.”

“I hate being without my knives,” says Melissa, “But you’re right, she’s got a keen eye for sure.”

**Scene 3**

The four companions reconvene after an afternoon of information-gathering.

“Well, it’s definitely not a bear – the claw marks and gait are all wrong,” says Melissa, “and I don’t just mean wrong for a bear. They’re //wrong//. We’ve definitely got an Aberrance here, and I think it’s still around. We should be able to catch it if we head out tonight.”

“I agree,” says Xavier, “fortunately the local law enforcement don’t seem inclined to investigate further, despite the strangeness of a few details. They’re happy enough to put it down to an animal attack.”

“Good work,” says Ylva. “Got any idea of what it actually //is//? I don’t want to go in completely blind.”

“A Class Three threat, I’d say. Physical attacks, nothing weird – or at least nothing overtly magical. It’s strong though. Cut clean through a couple of trees nearby. Probably a corrupted creature subclass.”

“Hmm. If it’s relying on a connection to an arcane Source…” Ylva rummages in one of her bags and pulls out a small pouch. “Here,” she says, tossing it to Melissa, “put this on a blade and it should help sever the connection, weaken it.”

“Thanks.”

“Ok – gear up, everyone. We’re heading out in an hour.”

---

The four creep into the edge of the forest under the cover of darkness. They carry no torches or lanterns, but their eyes glow faintly with arcane light. Suddenly a flash of torchlight cuts across their path.

“Ah fuck – is someone following us?” Whispers Antonio.

“Wait here,” says Ylva, “I’ll see if I can’t put them off.”

Ylva creeps back down through the trees until she has a clear view of the torch-bearers. Two people are at the edge of the forest. One of them looks to be Amelie.

“Are you sure about this, Amelie? I can’t see anything in there.” Whispers the other.

“I’m sure, Selene. They definitely came this way. And something is definitely strange. They called him “James”! I don’t care how badly they fell out, he’s //always// gone by “Jim”. And even if they //are// his family, why would they sneak out to the forest at night?”

“Why were you even watching them, anyway? Can’t you just leave the poor people alone?”

Ylva focuses her attention on the second of the pair – Selene, if she heard right. She holds her left hand up in front of her, fingers splayed, and grabs her little finger tight with the other hand.

“Hey, you agreed to come out here with me.” Says Amelie.

“Only because I knew you’d do it anyway and I - !” Selene slips, losing her footing in the slick undergrowth.

Ylva twists her hand, yanking her finger in a direction it’s not supposed to go – 

Selene falls, ankle twisting in a direction it’s not supposed to go – 

There’s a snapping of bone. Once. Twice. Almost indistinguishable. Ylva grits her teeth and quickly binds her finger to the one next to it with a strip of gauze. Selene screams.

“Aaargh! Fuck! My leg…shit. Amelie! Help! Fuck, I think it’s broken…”

Amelie rushes over and starts to help her friend up. Seeing it’s futile, she pulls out her phone and starts to call for an ambulance.

Ylva watches for a few minutes until she’s satisfied that Amelie won’t be leaving her friend behind, then turns and heads back up to her companions.

Free from distractions or interference, the group heads further into the forest. Melissa takes point, knife ready in one hand and a hex-bag in the other. Ylva and Xavier follow close behind, eyes sharp. Antonio takes up the rear, a short staff held out behind him. He chants a strange mantra under his breath, and as he does so, the plants and soil behind them fall back into place, the natural disorder of the forest floor covering the passage of the four humans.

They continue to comb through the woods. Xavier notes a trail of animal corpses, senselessly slain and left to rot; Melissa picks out the slash marks of sharp claws – or spines, or teeth – carved deep into the trunks of the trees. They are definitely on the right track.

Eventually the creature is spotted. Huge and thin, its form stretches between the trees. It might have been a deer once; or maybe a human. It’s hard to tell. Now it is all pale skin and spines and bone, and a mouth full of needles, and limbs too long for its body. It hasn’t seen the humans yet. Quickly, Ylva instructs her companions with a series of hand gestures. The four spread out, encircling the creature. They’re all in position, just about to strike, when: //snap//. A twig breaks under Xavier’s foot. The creature’s head whips round and suddenly it’s loping towards him, tearing up moss and soil with its razor-sharp claws.

Xavier lobs a hex-bag which erupts in purple fire at the creature’s feet; it screeches but barrels on. Antonio slams the end of his staff into the ground. A shockwave races through the fallen needles towards Xavier. Just before it reaches him, it bursts up in a flash of energy and forms a translucent screen. The creature slams into it, claws scrabbling around the edges, trying to reach Xavier. Melissa comes charging across and leaps directly at the beast, knife in hand. She grabs on to the creatures back and plunges her blade deep between its shoulder blades. It screams in pain – a scream too human for comfort – and thrashes around, its flesh smoking and bubbling around the knife-wound. 

Melissa is thrown to the ground. The creature turns to face her and is on her in a flash. Melissa draws a fresh blade with one hand and holds the other up in front of her, conjuring a flickering shield. She tries to roll, block, and parry as best she can but the creature is fast and right on top of her – she can barely move without getting impaled by some part of the creature or another, even without its active attempts to wound her.

Ylva rolls back her sleeve and raises an arm, pointing it towards the beast. An intricate tattoo running from her shoulder to hand glows sharply and a bolt of arcane light flashes out and strikes the creature in the side, knocking it back. Antonio gets close and, dodging neatly between the rows of spines, swings his staff into one of its limbs with superhuman strength. Xavier lays a hand on the ground, palm-down, and a piercing light erupts from the ground beneath the creature, scorching its skin. With an ear-splitting screech, the creature scrambles to its feet once more and frantically limps away, vanishing into the dark of the forest – and towards the town.

**Scene 4**

“Melissa, are you ok? Can you stand?”

Antonio, Xavier and Ylva cluster round their teammate. Melissa is bleeding badly and barely conscious. Multiple lacerations have been torn all down the right side of her body. Dark blood pools on the forest floor beneath her. One arm hangs limply, a white gleam of bone visible through the mangled flesh.

“Fuck. We need to get her back, call a Foundation medic.” Says Ylva.

Xavier frowns. “There’s no time – that thing’s heading towards town. I’m sure we hurt it, but I have no doubt it’s going to cause a lot more damage before it falls.”

“And without our best fighter, even if we go after it immediately…”

Antonio kneels by Melissa, inspecting her wounds. “I could maybe stop the worst of the bleeding, but... this is bad.” He looks Ylva and Xavier dead in the eyes, face grim. “There is another way. We could still finish this tonight.”

“You don’t mean…?” says Xavier.

“No,” says Ylva, “not that. Not now.”

Antonio shakes his head. “Even if we get her back now, she still might not survive. And if that thing reaches the town… We all swore the oath, Ylva. We all knew what this life meant.”

Ylva takes a deep breath. She looks down at Melissa, then back at the other two. “Fine. No more time wasting. Let’s go.”

---

Melissa opens her eyes. She’s lying flat on her back, on cold stone. Unable to feel her right arm, she tries to move her left – but she can’t move that one either. She can feel it, but it’s bound tightly to her side. She tries to move her legs, but they’re bound too. As she starts to struggle weakly, Antonio appears over her.

“’Tonio…what…what’s happening…”

“I’m sorry, Melissa. I won’t forget our time working together; none of us will. You’re going to join the ranks of heroes.”

“What…no, I’m…I just…just need…medic…”

In her pain-fogged mind, realisation dawns. The one sure-fire way to banish a creature from this world. Blood sacrifice: a life for a life.

“No…No…! Please! Ylva! Xavier!”

The breathless shouts of her companions reach her from the darkness.

“It’s nearly here – are you ready?”

“Wards set – binding circle primed.” Xavier appears on the other side of her from Antonio. “You’re about to save a lot of people, Melissa. We’re proud of you – of everything you’ve done.”

Ylva staggers to a halt next to them, breathing hard. She picks up a long dagger with an intricate silver inlay and holds it point-down over Melissa’s chest.

“I’m sorry. We’ll never forget you.”

Xavier and Antonio lay their hands on the knife’s handle as well. The haunting screech of the creature tears through the night from mere metres away. Together, Ylva, Antonio, and Xavier plunge the dagger down.

As blood drips down the side of the hastily-prepared ritual slab, the creature screams again, suddenly impaled on shafts of darkness piercing up from the ground. As its limbs thrash and flail, the ground beneath it appears to crumble and fall away. A writhing mass of shadowy limbs emerge from the growing hole beneath it. A human face – Melissa’s face – appears in the centre of the mass. The arms around her reach up, grab it, and drag both Melissa and the creature down into the earth.

The arcane light fades; the stillness of the forest returns. The plants on the forest floor rustle in a gentle breeze, as if the hole in reality was never there.

</spoiler>

===== Journey =====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:journey.jpg?nolink&400|}}

**Scene 1**

On the Summer Solstice, tribes gathered from far and wide to celebrate the Long Day. Just before the Sun was devoured by the western peaks, the chiefs joined in a circle and lit the prepared bonfire that would preserve the light. A choir of priestesses sang in praise to the Winged Goddess. 

As the fire rose with the Moon, the Chief, with booming voice, called the tribespeople close.

"As the Long Day descends into darkness, let us reminisce the Eternal Day that once was, but is no more. Let us reminisce the birth of light, the gifts it granted us, and how it was stolen.

"Before the first men learned to speak, before the first birds learned to sing, the Winged Goddess created Light. Light filled the heavens and illuminated all. The world looked up in wonder, enraptured by the Eternal Day.

"The Primordial Clam was woken by the Light. Rising from the Abyss, in foul greed it devoured the Light whole..."

The Chief retold the ancient creation stories: how the light came to be, how the Sun and the Moon came to be, how the seasons were born through the end of the Eternal day, how the Great Goddess' tears would rain down upon the earth and how the winds would follow her wings. 

All listened attentively - the Youth and her friend the Priestess, sitting side-by-side as they oft would since they were but little girls; the Youth's Rival, amidst those of his village. Fire shone in their eyes, soft, bright.

At the edge of the warmth radiated by the fire, in the dancing shadows, a Fox yawned. 



**Scene 2**

The Youth rose early in the morn, woken by the bustling village filled with tribespeople preparing for travels and her own restless heart.

Taking her spear, bow and arrows - all gifted to her by her father, she came to the old willow by the river, where she had often honed her skills. 

The Rival was already there, spear in hand, waiting for her arrival. 

"Shall we spar, my friend?" Asked the Rival. "Let me test your strength, and you mine. One cannot advance without being tested. One cannot prove one's strength, without a worthy rival."

They took their stances, spears held high. In the morning breeze, they prepared to fight. Yet the winged words of the Priestess stopped them. 

"Hark! Hark! The Great Goddess has spoken, and I am Her voice!" The Priestess slowed her breathing and comported herself with grace. As she spoke again her voice rang far and clear as a lark. "'Beneath the willow, aside the flow, stands the one who shall seek the Light. Follow the river and journey west, descend to the Abyss where the Clam would rest. Break the Sun, restore the Light, what once was is always right.'

"A prophecy was given and a prophecy I have delivered. We should make haste so not to dim this honour with any delay." 

The Youth and the Rival looked at each other, beneath the willow, aside the flow. 

"There is only one who shall seek the Light." Said the Youth, uncertain. 

"There is only one who shall seek the Light." Said the Rival, once again pointing his spear towards the Youth. "There's only one way to find out who."

"Must we fight?" Asked the Youth.

"You may surrender," Laughed the Rival, "then I shall take the journey and complete the divine quest. I am strong of heart. I am resolute. I do not fear death or the unknown. What say you?"

The Youth, enraged by the Rival's mockery, held high her spear. "You are the one that should stand down. The prophesied one is me. I will take the journey and complete the divine quest. I am strong of heart. I am resolute. I do not fear death or the unknown. I have been preparing for this my whole life."

So they fought, spear against spear, beneath the willow, aside the flow. The Priestess watched in silence, hands clutching her holy pendant.

"Is this all that you have? Is this all that you are willing to give? This is a quest that will determine the fate of the world. I will not hold back just because we have been friends." The Rival thrust his spear towards the Youth's leg, missing only by an inch. "Neither should you."

The Rival was true to his words. Holding nothing back, he shunned not the possibility of death. Each strike he aimed to hurt, to wound, to kill. The Youth, facing a true rival, a true enemy, had no choice but to rise to this challenge and repay in kind. 

As last, the Youth's spear found its mark. The Rival fell to the ground, blood pouring out of his wound. 

"I have tested your strength, and you mine... One cannot advance without being tested. One cannot prove one's strength... without..."

"A worthy rival. Which you are." The Youth walked over, hoping to see to his wounds. 

He waved her away. "You have earned your right to proceed. Now go. Remember, I will not forgive you if you fail."

So the Youth said her farewells, to her mother, her people. She looked for her father the Chief but he was nowhere to be found. But there was no time to waste so she packed weapons for trials to come and equipment for the long journey. The village showered her with blessings and hope. She accepted, still shaken, but resolute. The Priestess came and asked to join her, her Loyal Hound by her side. Gladly, the Youth accepted her company. 

As the two travellers departed the village, they encountered a Quick Brown Fox. The Loyal Hound immediately stood between them, teeth bared in alarm. 

The Quick Brown Fox spoke. "Turn back."

“We will not.” Said the Priestess. 

Ignoring the Quick Brown Fox, the two journeyed west, following the river, towards the setting Sun. 



**Scene 3**

Journeying for many days, the Youth and the Priestess had walked past tribes they had never encountered before and they told them there was nothing west except the twin mountains that everyday devoured the sun. 

They encountered many difficulties. Lack of settlements, strange weathers, beasts of the night. Thankfully, the Chief’s wisdom, their training and the Loyal Dog prepared them for them all. 

As the twin mountains loomed ever closer, the two and their Loyal Hound rested in their camp. They lit their bonfire under moonlight. 

"Let us exchange tales under the Goddess' wings," Smiled the Priestess, "the night is young."

She sang a story of a hero of old, who journey far to save a loved one from the Ice Serpent of the North. Many resistance he encountered. All of which he overcame. Such is the nature of hero's journeys. Such is the nature of heroes. 

"Trials are the prelude to triumph. All that you faced are signs that you shall succeed." 

The Youth smiled to her friend and sang a legend in turn, of two heroes who conquered the Southern Sands together, where a lone traveller would have surely perished. 

**Scene 4**

At last, the Youth and the Priestess arrived at the twins mountains that reach to the sky. There they found a village of foxes. The Quick Brown Fox appeared before them. Tilting its little head, it spoke. 

"Turn back."

“We will not.” Said the Youth. 

The foxes gathered around them. 

"We are hunters. Hunters of memories. The twin mountains are perilous; their peaks are smoother than obsidian and only creatures of fire and ice dwell upon them. The river is perilous; the river bed is white for it is laden with the bones of those that dared to jump in. But we are hunters. Hunters of memories. The world is our hunting ground. We know a way through, and we can take you. Just know, whatever path you choose, there is a price to be paid."

“Then the price we will pay.” Looking at each other, the Youth and the Priestess answered, clear and true.

The Quick Brown Fox circled them, sniffing, judging. Then it spoke. “You come together, desiring passage together. Give us the memories you share, and we shall grant you safe passage to the other side.” 

The two fell silent. They contemplate their options. At last, the Priestess spoke to her friend, voice soft and gentle. “I will do anything for you and the Winged Goddess. Even without our shared memories, we will still be friends. And we can always make more memories. This is a price I am willing to pay. I am not afraid.” 

The Youth looked deep into her eyes. Slowly, she closed them. She could see the memories. How they met beneath the old willow. How they learned the legends of old from the Chief. How the Priestess would watch her, quietly, attentively, as she practiced archery. How she ran to her and the Rival, bearing the prophecy of the Goddess. 

And the words of the Rival rang through every scene that flashed before her eyes. 

//Is this all that you are willing to give?//

The Youth's eyes opened, bright and fearless. She turned to the Quick Brown Fox. “Then take. All of our shared memories, except that of the prophecy, for we cannot forget our quest.”

The Quick Brown Fox nodded; its expression - if one can so interpret the face of a fox - strangely solemn. 

As it approached the Youth and the Priestess, the Loyal Hound stood between them. The Quick Brown Fox stopped and watched it curiously, as if contemplating what it should demand from it. Then suddenly it jumped over it, causing the Loyal Hound to bark and bite instinctively. But the Quick Brown Fox was swift enough to avoid it. The Quick Brown Fox made a strange sound. If a fox could laugh, that might be what it would sound like.

Landing right in front of the two travellers, the Quick Brown Fox licked their hands. And when the two looked at each other once more, they know that they have paid the price. 

**Scene 5**

The Quick Brown Fox led the Youth, the Priestess and the Loyal Hound into the valley between the mountains. They trod through paths hidden by overgrown bushes, tracks that grew out of the sheer cliffs and tunnels that they can barely squeeze through. But at last, they arrived at the other side. 

They passed the trial of the twin mountains. 

Before them, the sea spread open. Boundless, unfathomable, blue as sapphire. Beneath it, laid the Abyss. 

The Youth and the Priestess walked to the seaside. There they found a Weeping Girl, whose tears are pearls.

"Why do you weep?" Questioned the Youth.

The Weeping Girl looked up, pearls falling from her eyes. "I don't remember."

Before anyone can respond, they realised that the Sun is setting - falling - towards where they are. Never before had the Sun looked so big. And now that it was so close, they could actually see the Primordial Clam, whose shells were made almost transparent by the blinding Light of the Pearl. 

"Run-!" Someone shouted. But it was too late. The Sun smashed into the sea. Mountainous waves engulfed everything.

</spoiler>

===== Max Volume Reached =====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:max_volume_reached.jpg?nolink&450|}}

**Scene 1**

Peony hurries down the steps of her dorm room with her books, making sure she isn’t late for today’s recital. With a glance at her watch she knows she doesn’t have much time, and her name will be called to perform at any second as she rushes to the Joliard College of Music’s Concert hall. Today was the day she was to perform in front of her entire year, an annual recital meant to showcase the diverse talents of students.

Thankfully, she made it just in time, where a stagehand ushers her onto the concert floor, where a piano had already been prepared. She straightens out her blouse as she sits down, hungry from not having had breakfast, and groggy from sleep. But she didn’t need to be at top form to play, she could perform in her sleep if she wanted. 

She began to play. And the crowd was stunned. 

As she takes her final bow and steps off stage, waiting for her is her best friend, Clement. He hands her a bouquet of Peony flowers. “you were great today,” he gushes, “I’m up in the afternoon, but I doubt anyone’s gonna beat that performance.” Peony smiles and thanks him, though reassures that he’s also an excellent cellist. 

The recital takes an intermission after the next few performances, allowing Peony and Clement to wander out into the break rooms for coffee. As Peony sets her flowers down for some cookies, she overhears a conversation behind her. 

“What did you think of Peony’s performance?” Asks a cheery voice.

“Who?” Replies a rather dull one.

“You know, the girl with the black hair, yellow headband…” 

“Oh. Her. It was alright I suppose, but too disorganized to be considered handsome. It’s rather… messy.” 

Peony had peeked her head around to see that it was Sam, a saxophonist that was famous for more than just his musical talent, especially from what she heard. She rolled her eyes, he was being such a dick!

“I thought It was good! Really creative like all her work!” 

“Well… if creative is another word for put no preparation into it, then sure, maybe.”

Peony didn’t stick around to hear any more as she stormed off, forgetting her flowers on the table. How dare he! She had spent months rehearsing that piece and it was her own composition as well! It was from that day on that she wanted to knock Sam down a peg, especially to shove that arrogant attitude of his right in his face. 

**Scene 2**

Soon, she found out that much like her, he was in a band. Though every music student seemed to be in a band one way or another. He was part of Jazzitude. A serious lounge music styled group headed by the young Terra, a legend amongst Joliard. Peony had even heard them a few times, her voice tended to resonate whatever room she performed in. 

The fact that Sam was part of Jazzitude didn’t jump to the forefront of Peony’s mind until an announcement on College radio that their annual Battle of the Bands was in a couple weeks. It was here where she devised a plan to get back at him – participate, play a killer song, and snatch their title from beneath their grasp! They had been such favorites to win for years now, all thanks to Terra’s amazing vocals. But even so, winners can’t be winners forever and Peony decided she would be the one to take that trophy from them. 

She mentions this plan the next time she rehearses with her band, Brass Bass, that Friday. Enthusiastic and more than a little mad, she waves the flyers in their face, hoping to get them as fired up as she was. Though they were all skeptical at first, they eventually agreed, mostly because when Peony sets her mind to something, she rarely backs down.

There was one member of the band though that had her own reasons for signing up – their violinist, Violet. Violet had pointedly not said anything to Peony about her motives, knowing that given the girl’s competitiveness, she would shut her down. Violet, like many students in Joliard, dreamt of being a star one day. She believed she had the talent too, she just needed a way to showcase it. Most people knew that talent scouts from record labels usually come to sniff out new blood at events like Joliard’s BotBs, and she was determined to outshine not just her competitors, but her very own bandmates, for a chance at that spotlight. It was for these reasons that she stuck it out, together with the rest of the band under Peony’s fiery yet nonchalant lead to the day of the battle.

**Scene 3**

As Peony continues to practice with the band, she finds her resolve to show Sam up dwindling. Initially, she had been so upset at his need to poke holes in a masterpiece she was so proud of. But as the performance neared, she realized she had bigger fish to fry. Violet had been making offhand comments through their practices about researching various talent agents, which got Peony thinking. Perhaps Battle of the Bands wasn’t just an opportunity to show up Sam, but a chance to get ahead. It wasn’t a stretch in her mind that dozens of record label guys will be there and even if Sam didn’t appreciate her work, it didn’t mean that no one else will. 

She was full of life, her music was unique. She knew she had a chance, and with that, she had a plan to succeed here.

**Scene 4**

 It was evening when all the band members of Brass Bass arrived in advance for their debut. Peony was nervous, but confident she could do what it takes to succeed here. Violet was staring daggers at her, sure not to be upstaged by such an unorthodox player.

Soon they were called up, and as the white lights dimmed, a low flicker of red and purple enveloped the stage, with a spotlight on Peony. The crowd grew quiet with this sudden serious atmosphere, and that’s when the music started – blowing them away.

The reds were the perfect colour to match the tone of Peony’s chaotic music, her notes were brash and melody in a bold major key. It was strange for a pianist, who’s music had often been thought of as smooth and coherent, yet, somehow it felt right. Under the passionate lighting and the bass making the floor shake, people erupted in a cheer. 

Its barely a minute into the start of their performance when Peony hears Violet veering off score, adding unnecessary thrills to her violin that weren’t there in their notes. It wasn’t long until her playing overshadowed the rest of them. Clement struggled to keep up as he faded into the background and Peony, who as the pianist, traditionally played the accompaniment, and if she didn’t do anything now, she would fade into the background too, spotlight or not. 

It was then when she decided to throw Violet off course by changing key, speeding up her music then slowing down, even changing the time signature back and forth in a way that was so discordant yet so concordant. The way Peony’s fingers flew across the keys you would think it was magic, and if you looked closely you might see ribbons of sound waves that pressed down on keys where Peony’s fingers were not. Perhaps her movements were just too fast to catch on camera. 

Violet fought back though, keeping up toe to toe with Peony as she did flips and turns through her music. It soon became obvious that the two were competing, trying to take their piece in different directions. Sounds layers on top of each other in a true fight, chaotic like Jazz was meant to be. Violet stomped over to Peony, sharing the spotlight as she played and Peony, not daring to give up just yet, stood up and kicked her stool away onto the ground – sending the audience into a rapturous uproar. 

Their duet continued, at one point there may have even been sparks flying off Violet’s violin. As their piece ended, both girls where panting, staring at each other angrily as Peony slammed the final low notes that carried their performance to its finale. The crowd was quiet, stunned into silence that it was finally over. In the lights of the stage, sweat dripped off Peony’s brows onto the keyboard, and Violet wiped her brow. Both girls looked down onto the crowd, as if they were aware for the first time that they were performing in front of an audience. 

An audience who all stood from their chairs and applauded for them like there was no tomorrow. 

**Scene 5**

 A note is placed in Peony's locker.

**Scene 6**

As Peony and the rest of the band descended off stage, Peony got a towel, wiping her face off. Though as she reached into the backpack for a water bottle, she found it missing. “Damn… must have left it in my locker” she said to herself. She called that she would be back soon to the others as she ran round to the abandoned main school building, in search of some much needed hydration. 

As she opened her locker, a folded piece of paper floats out. Curious, she opened it as she drank her water, reading the note:

//I can’t contain my feelings any more, they are so strong they could burst out.//

//Am I feeling love? This is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.//

//Your eyes swallow me when I look into them, your voice make me deaf to all other sound, a//

//Broken Heart is all love has ever given me before, but I hope now my luck might change. //

//And on the back note instructions to meet at midnight under the streetlamp//

“What on earth…” she mumbles to herself, staring at the note as she closes her locker. Unbeknownst to her, there was a second bit of paper still in there. 

As cheesy as she found it, she decided to do as the note said and waited until midnight before she went out into the biting cold. She listened to the rest of the performances, but couldn’t find focus, as her mind was swimming with the text from the note. Who could it be? What could it mean? Did someone want to ask her out? Because if they did this was kind of a sad way to do it. She usually preferred people come up directly to tell her they were into her, than these convoluted ‘romantic’ shenanigans. 

In the end, despite Jazzitude’s breathtaking performance, it was Brass Bass who took home the win for their new age punk homage to classic Southern Jazz, messy yet so full of raw emotion. Peony was happy of course, but that didn’t mean anything until she found out who send her the note. 

**Scene 7**

As she wandered outside into the night, a shadowy figure approached her and from the distance, she recognized him easily. 

“Clement!” She cried, as the young man came closer, bashful with hands in his pockets. 

“H-Hey…” Clement started, “look Peony I… I got something to tell you…” 

Peony pulled out the note with a smile, “no need, I already know…” 

“No, no!” Clement insisted, “it’s not what you think. See… I wanted to tell you that, I’m actually, your brother.” 

Crickets. 

“My…. What?” Peony was beyond confused. 

“Look see,” Clement took the note in her hands, showing her the first few letters in each line, “If you look at the first parts of each bit, it spells it out: I Am Your Bro.” 

“But Clement I… I don’t understand…” Now that she looked at him closely, he did kind of resemble her… she wondered why she didn’t notice this before. “Why have you never told me?” 

“Um… I…” 

“Why have you pretended to be my best friend all this time?? Were you trying to protect me from something? I don’t get it…” Peony looked on the verge of tears, confused and betrayed by what must be a family member of all people. 

“That’s not important right now,” Clement asserted, “What is important is that your mother is a talent scout, and I’ve asked her to come watch your performance, she was so impressed Peony!” He grabbed her hands, “She could sign you any day now!” 

But Peony pulled her hands away. 

“My mother?? But I have a mother, she’s in the country! She’s no talent scout, she could barely afford for me to go to school here!” 

“I mean your real mother…” Clement struggled with his explanation, he didn’t think Peony had an established mother “Our Mother…” 

“But… my mom…” Tears started to stream down Peony’s face, “You mean… my mom isn’t my real…” 

Oh no, this was going south. Clement had thought their resemblance alone would be enough to sway Peony to believing him, but there were still too many inconsistencies… too many things that didn’t make sense in this retelling of their friendship. Too many loose links that thus far cannot be overlooked in the story. Loose links that Clement had not planned on how to resolve and thus, begun to panic.

At that moment, a second figure walks up to the streetlamp, in between Clement and Peony. “Hey, hey!” they call, “Clement what are you doing with her! This is my moment!” 

Clement turns his head around, but before he can respond to the second voice, he gets a face full of someone’s fist.

The scene abruptly cuts to black.

</spoiler>

===== Mirror Maze =====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:mirror_maze.png?nolink&450|}}

**Scene 1**


“Are they there?”

Silently, the old magician nods. Tethnda Yonsa does not turn. Before the large window she stands, face paled by moonlight. Outside the window, beneath the tall walls encircling the Yonsa Mansion, two small figures crouch. 

“Fools.” She spits out the word. 

Behind them, jingling in the corner, Bartholomew the Foreign Jester claps his hands. “Oh, but dear lady, I am but one man, or does my shadow makes us two?”

Tethnda ignores him resolutely. “Let her climb to the top. Let her grow wings of swans. Let her try.”

Silently, the old magician nods. His gaze follows the two youths like a faithful familiar. 

“And then drag her down. Make her fall.” She laughs, voice as hollow as the endless hallways of her house. “Here she belongs. This she must learn.”

Her laughter echoes throughout the room, continued by Bartholomew the Foreign Jester, hollow, bizarre. 

Silently, the old magician nods. They wait in the unlit room, watching, musing. Beneath them, in the cold night, two youths struggle against the tall marble walls, seeking freedom. The boy bows down to the earth and eventually vines burst through the ground, creating a ladder. The girl climbs. But just before she could reach the top, the vines wilt and she falls. The boy rushes over to help her up and they discuss their backup plan. He takes out the feathers they collected over the last month and carefully attaches them to the girl’s back, overlaying her moon-white dress. As she opens her arms to embrace the sky, the sky embraces her back and lifts her up. The feathers shine, reflecting the moon and stars. The boy looks up in awe. She rises, higher and higher, until at last she could see the desolate ruins behind the walls – then her feathers turn to dust and to the earth she again falls. The boy rushes over again. He does not understand why it would fail. But they do not give up. Tears in their eyes, they device more plans. 

The night is young. 

“The boy’s talented. You taught him well.”

“But just unwell enough,” exasperated Bartholomew the Foreign Jester, “that he should fail.”

Silently, the old magician nods. Expressionlessly, he carries out Lady Tethnda’s order. 

In the dim moonlight they wait, as Bartholomew the Foreign Jester juggles with silver balls that shine like stars.


**Scene 2**


“Have you learned?”

From a distance, Phaeveon could hear the woman’s voice. Stone-cold, composed, with neither wrath nor sorrow, an order, not a question. He has travelled far to reach this ancient mansion in what most would call an empty wasteland. But he knows better. There is a reason they stand guard here. There is something so precious, that such exile may be seen as an honour. 

The Great Library. Secret knowledge that the god-like Strelitsian Emperors held dear. Power beyond imagination.

Quietly, he draws himself to the blackstone gate of the Yonsa Mansion, intrigued by the conversation within. With his back against the wall, he takes a peek, and see a woman – who must be Lady Tethnda, judging by her age and her oppressive dignity – scolding two youths, a boy and a girl. The boy is cowering in fear – he cannot blame him. The girl is weeping without a sound. 

“Have you learned?” Tethnda asks again. Behind her, Mno, the fabled silent magician looms like a shadow. Nearby, out-of-place, Bartholomew the Foreign Jester jingles and juggles. He wears a wide smile on his painted face, almost as if he has a secret he can’t wait to share. 

“Forgive us, my lady.” The boy pleads. His eyes dart to Bartholomew the Foreign Jester for a moment, clearly disturbed by his bizarre presence. But then he looks down again. “Please, forgive us. It… it was my fault. I was the one who casted the spells. I -”

Tethnda holds out her palm and immediately the boy falls silent. She looks pointedly at the girl and asks.

“Have you learned, Ninsë, daughter of Yonsa?”

Silence descends. Ninsë's gaze move from the ground to the boy beside her. She looks up and sees that her mother’s eyes follow suit. 

Voice flat and dry, she closes her eyes and answers: “Yes, mother.”

Phaeveon, intrigued by what just unfolded before him, suddenly shivers. As he looks up, he sees that Tethnda is staring right at him, her frozen blue eyes as piercing as arrows. 

“My apologies, Lady Tethnda.” He bows. “I did not wish to interrupt. I am Phaeveon, a merchant from the Capital. Goods and news I bring with me, and I entreat you to grant me the honour to present them before your sapphire eyes.”

Tethnda eyes him, face so stern he starts to fear that instead of allowing him entrance she might instead order his execution. He has documents, introduction letters from important people prepared, but Lady Tethnda’s eyes are so cold he wonders if any of that would work. 

But then, she turns and departs, leaving her last order behind. 

“Let him in.”

Mno, silently tapping Bartholomew the Foreign Jester on the shoulder, gestures towards the gate. Joyfully Bartholomew the Foreign Jester jumps over, patched silk costume shedding glitters all the way. 

As the jester opens the gate with a wide gesture, suddenly, he freezes. And in the most dramatic fashion ever, he starts throwing up, right at Phaeveon. 

Startled, the “merchant” jumps out of the way. “By the grace of the Empire what are you doing! My clothes! My wares! My livelihood!”

As Bartholomew the Foreign Jester continues to throw up and – for some reason – run around at the same time, and Phaeveon laments to all the gods about how his clothing – all immaculately clean, in pristine condition – are in tatters, the baffled youths return to the house, followed by the silent Mno. 


**Scene 3**

 As they enter the mansion, the group parts way with one another. Phaeveon is led away by a servant. Without looking back, Ninsë returns to her own room. Mno lays a hand on Siilan’s shoulder, shakes his head, then walks off as well. Bartholomew the Foreign Jester, still sick, disappears as well. 

All alone, Siilan is uncertain what to do. He wanders the vast empty halls of the Yonsa Mansion, suddenly more aware of its age and loneliness than ever. 

//Is this where we must live our lives forever? Is this where Ninse must rule, and be ruled, some day in the future? 
//
Despite all his respect, he never understood why Lady Tethnda is so stubborn. What is so valuable here that they must all give their lives to a prison? 

As he ponders, he is reminded of the map he found when he was organizing the house library a while back. He opens the map, drawn of worn leather – he’s uncertain of what animal – and painted in red, but cannot recognise anything. It looks like the inside of some structure, tunnels, maybe. But nothing on it indicates where this is. 

“Watch it, apprentice boy!” A voice shakes him out of his reverie. He looks up in a hurry and sees Iivta the chambermaid staring at him, one hand on her waist, another holding a very hard-looking broomstick. 

“So – Sorry!” He takes a step back, not wanting to anger her. 

“Can’t you see I’m cleaning? Shoo! Shoo!”

Siilan apologises again, puts away the map and leaves. Perhaps he should go work in the greenhouse. It’s one of the liveliest place here and he has always liked plants. 

To his surprise, he is not the only one there. Ninsë, still in her white dress, stands before the bed of roses. Her cheeks are paler than their petals. 

Without looking up, she calls his name. 

“Siilan.”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Siilan,” she looks up. There is desperation in her eyes, not the quiet despair of a dried up well, but burning, melting, shining. 

“Will you save me? Will you take me away? Will we ever be free?”

Siilan can hardly bear to hold her searing gaze, yet he cannot look away either. His mouth is dry, so dry he can taste blood. He wants to answer, but no words would save him from the crushing silence. 

Ninsë watches him, tears streaming down her beautiful face, and smiles. Gently she kisses him on the lips. 

“Promise me, Siilan. Promise me. We will be free. Together. You will crown me with the stars under the real night. You will give me the moon that never answered my prayers.” Holding his face with her palm, she gently kisses him again. “Promise me.”

Mesmerized, uncertain if the tears on his face are his own or Ninsë's, the youth nods. 

“I promise.”


**Scene 4**

"Do you take me as a fool?"

The masquerading thief looks up, startled, fingers still tracing the golden runes on the mirror. 

Standing by the door, Tethnda feels the cold fury burning in her veins. Behind her, Mno stands in silence. 

"My dearest lady, I mean no offence! I was merely admiring the beauty of the goldcraft - "

"Another lie, and I will have your tongue ripped out." 

Phaeveon opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it once more. He realises Lady Yonsa does not jest. 

"Who sent you? Who told you about the Maze?"

When she sees the fleeting confusion on his face, Tethnda suddenly feels like she is a fool. This man does not know about the Maze, only "the Library". 

Phaeveon pleas for forgiveness, all the while remaining close to the mirror. 

Tethnda laughs, hollow and joyless. She is about to give a command, when Ninse and Siilan suddenly appear in the hallway behind them.

"Mother?"

She is distracted for one moment - one moment too long. She turns back to a blinding light shining through the mirror. Phaeveon has activated the entrance. 

"No! Stop them!" A woman screams in rage. 

"Come here! Don't you want to run away?" A man tries to shout over her. 

"Come with me. You promised." A girl whispers, her voice mellow and sorrowful. 

"No! Turn! Flee!" An ancient voice cracks, rusty from disuse.  

Fire erupts from everywhere in the room. Tethnda looks towards Mno in horror and her horror only increased when the flames licked and devoured Phaeveon's device. 

Explosion. 

It shook the Yonsa Mansion to its core. 

Fire is everywhere. It grows like summer weed on the ground. It spreads like winter moss on the walls. It rains down as the house itself rains down. 

 The thief, gone. The sanctity of the Maze she swore to protect, gone. Her daughter, her successor, (herself,) looks upon her one last time, expression inscrutable, then steps through the mirror. Gone. 

Siilan follows her. Despite the fire between him and the mirror, despite Mno trying his best to call and drag the boy back, he disappears through the mirror as well. 

Was there once, someone who would do the same for her? 

It never mattered. 

As House Yonsa rains down upon her, Tethnda Yonsa laughs. Outside the window, across the raging flames, she sees Bartholomew the Foreign Jester. He waves at her, slowly, sadly, from the outside. 

She has given everything else to House Yonsa. Now her sacrifice is complete. 

As fire consumes her all, Tethnda sees her laughter echoed by Bartholomew the Foreign Jester, slowly, sadly, from the outside. 

 Such is the end of House Yonsa.


**Scene 5**

The Mirror Maze has waited for long. It welcomes all with gleaming hospitality, with startled faces looking back at every corner, with echoes of voices from eons past. 

Phaeveon, Siilan and Ninse look around them in dismay. 

"This is not... a library."

"Let's find the exit. There must be one, right?"

Suddenly reminded, Siilan takes out the map he found in the library. 

They look at each other and nod. Faces pale, but resolute. There is yet hope. 

They walk through hallways after hallways, so many they lose count. The Maze is quiet, yet also filled with oppressive murmurs. They try not to listen. Myriads of faces stare at them wherever they look. Those are their own faces. Surely. They know they are. 

But somehow they look so alien. 

They follow the map, their only hope. 

At last they see something different: light. 

Blinding light pours in from the end of the tunnel. Freedom. Life. They race towards it, tears on their faces, blind, crying. 

And then the light was no more. 

There is nothing before them other than their own faces. Eyes wide with despair. 

Someone laughs. They are not sure who. The Maze laughs in echoes. 

A knife is lifted. A knife falls. 

A body slouches down, blood tainting the mirrors and the false map. 


Someone screams. They are no sure who. The Maze screams in echoes. 

Someone runs away from her. She is unsure why. There is no exit. She knows this from the very start, from the depth of her heart. There is no way out. She has learned. All too well. 

Surrounded by screams and laughter (whose? her own? what does that mean who even is -), she feels strangely at peace. She can't tell where she is, if she is looking in the mirror or if she is in the mirror looking at her or if she //is// at all. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. 

Gently, softly, she leans down and kisses the one she loves.

Never before were they so free. 

Never before had they possessed such eternity. 

In reflections, she drowns.

</spoiler>

===== Starship Odyssey =====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:starship_odyssey.jpg?nolink&450|}}

**Scene 1**

The Earth Alliance Starship //Odyssey// cruises along at the edge of human-known space. Captain Erica Forthwright stands on the bridge, staring at the main screen and watching points of light zip by, like snowflakes in the headlights of an old ground-vehicle. She’d always assumed they were stars, but now she realises that even at the ludicrous speeds of the Weft Drive they are moving past far too quickly to be those distant suns. She’ll have to ask the Chief Science Officer about what they are later.

A flashing notification lights up on the Comms Officer’s screen. “We’re picking up a distress signal, Captain. It’s a Skraw cargo vessel – they say they’re under attack from the Imm.”

Captain Forthwright strides over to look at the incoming message herself. “We are near the border of Imm- and Skraw-controlled space… Which side is trespassing?”

“Looks like the Imm are, Captain. They are near the border, yes, but they’re definitely on the Skraw side.”

“Are there any other Skraw ships within range?”

“We’re the nearest allied ship, Captain.”

“Alright. Navigation – plot a course.”

“Already on it, Captain. I’m picking up a number of Weave anomalies in the region, though. Between those and avoiding the Imm border ourselves, we can’t fly a straight route.”

“Best not take any chances. Do what you can without putting the //Odyssey// at risk too.”

---

Imm Trrum-Intura barks commands from their seat on the bridge of their hive-ship. “Target their engines! Bring them to a halt.”

“The Skraws’ Weft Drive is disabled!”

“Good! Recalibrate the particle cannons – set the modulation to disrupt their ion accelerators, take out their sub-light engines. We won’t let them get away!”

Beams of light streak out across the black void. A couple of stray shots graze the crew module and cargo pods of the Skraw vessel, but the majority of the damage is focused around the rear of the ship. Explosions send shockwaves up its length. One final blast pushes the ship off-axis; it stops moving with purpose and now drifts at an angle, trailing a small amount of debris and gently cooling plasma.

“Engines disabled – they’re dead in the water.”

“Close distance; prepare a boarding party. We will find what they are hiding from us.”

**Scene 2**

The //Odyssey//’s Weft Drive drops it out of the Weave and the bridge crew take in the situation in front of them. The Imm hive-ship is crouched crab-like near the brittle-looking form of the Skraw vessel. The Skraw ship has clearly taken damage; the engines at the rear are venting a glowing cloud of plasma, though the rest of the ship appears mostly intact. A cursory scan confirms this, the engines have been knocked out but the ship’s other systems appear mostly unaffected. The Imm cruiser still has its weapons powered up, and as they take notice of the //Odyssey//, several targeting sensors lock on to the Human ship.

“They’re targeting us, Captain!”

“Raise Condition Two. Prepare countermeasures.”

The Chief Weapons Engineer Sebastian chimes in, “I’d recommend not shooting, Captain. We can’t be sure of the situation, and they might have prisoners on board.”

“I agree. What’s their weapon status?”

“Locked on but not firing, Captain.”

“Ok. Hold Condition Two but //do not// charge weapons. First things first, let’s find out what’s going on. Comms, contact the Imm.”

---

Somewhat to the humans’ surprise, Imm Trrum-Intura, captain of the Imm cruiser, is very willing to open a dialogue. They even allow the Skraw captain, Flock-Leader Aakra, to speak to Captain Forthwright (though only under observation). Aakra is unharmed and has been allowed to stay on his bridge, though he is flanked by two armed Imm guards.

The Imm have boarded the Skraw ship and are now effectively in command – not that it’s going anywhere any time soon, as no attempt has been made to repair the engines. They claim that the Skraw ship was tracked crossing the Imm border and Trrum-Intura was sent to intercept it. Trrum-Intura has been told that the ship is suspected of carrying something dangerous, though it’s unclear if the Imm have any evidence of this fact itself, or if this is simply their assumption for why the ship had been in their territory to begin with. The Imm have boarded the ship and taken control. The Skraw fought back and there have been some injuries, though it was quickly apparent that they were severely overpowered and had no choice but to surrender. The Imm accepted the surrender; the bridge crew of the //Odyssey// privately agree this is unusual for the Imm, but they’re not complaining – better this than the Skraw being slaughtered entirely. 

Flock-Leader Aakra is, understandably, indignant about the whole situation, from being boarded by the Imm, to their supposed allies, the Earth Alliance, even beginning to entertain the notion that the Imm are telling the truth. He denies having crossed the border (though admits to having been very close to it – on a perfectly legitimate supply route, he is quick to add), and outright denies carrying any dangerous materials. A quick check of the Skraw ship’s manifest reveals that they are carrying mostly medical supplies and equipment and some trimanganese fuel. While technically these might be considered dangerous in the wrong hands, they are hardly worth chasing a ship down for. 

The Imm have yet to start a thorough physical search of the ship, but are adamant that they will do so and strongly suggest that the Humans should not interfere. Trrum-Intura then goes one step further and issues an invitation to the Humans: they are to come aboard the Skraw ship and actively help with the investigation. Trrum-Intura appears so sure that the actions of the Imm will be proven justified that they are willing to stake the Imm’s future relations with the Earth Alliance on this one event. Encouraged by the prospect of finally getting a foot in the door for peaceful diplomacy with the Imm, Captain Forthwright accepts.

Flock-Leader Aakra is furious at this, impotent rage burning in his eyes. How dare the Humans look down on their long-term allies with such distrust, while willingly accepting a deal from such a historically warlike and untrustworthy species? He is placated somewhat by the Ship’s Doctor’s insistence that they will focus mainly on treating the injured Skraw, which the Imm allow so long as they remain under guard. However, it is clear this is a slight the Skraw will not soon forget.

When the comms channel closes, Captain Forthwright assembles an away team.

“Get me a security team – even with the Imm’s assurances, it would be foolish to go over there unarmed. Science: prepare a deep scan. Some of those cargo pods are shielded – makes sense if they’re carrying trimanganese, but that could also be used to mask the presence of other cargo. Sebastian, Doctor – you’re with me.”

**Scene 3**

Arriving on the Skraw ship, the team is greeted almost immediately by Trrum-Intura and their guards. The doctor is allowed to start seeing to the injured Skraw (under guard, of course), while Captain Forthwright, Sebastian, and Trrum-Intura begin a physical sweep of the ship.

The latter party starts with a more thorough check of the ship’s manifest and flight path. Captain Forthright checks the manifest – the list matches what they had been told earlier, all of the values and weights match up, and the manifest itself doesn’t seem to have been altered in any way. There are no traces of manipulation or corruption after (or even before) it was uploaded to the ship’s systems. The flight path is another matter. Weapons Chief Sebastian persuades one of the Skraw bridge crew to give them access to the ship’s black box and location tracker. While the path data itself doesn’t appear to have been tampered with, the map of the border held on the ship’s computer is incorrect – this ship definitely had been on the Imm side of the border.

While tending to the Skraw, the doctor also notices some irregularities: not all of the crew bear the callouses, bruises, and scratches one would expect of cargo haulers. Perhaps they’re new hires, but… something doesn’t seem quite right.

---

Meanwhile, back on the //Odyssey//, the Chief Science Officer taps away at their console, muttering under their breath. A full deep scan needs to be tailored to the target or else the more intense surface-level signals drown out any further information. An additional problem in this particular case is that several of the cargo pods are shielded – ostensibly because they’re carrying trimanganese, which is a very reasonable precaution, but it does make penetrating the outer layer more difficult. 

Eventually the scan completes, and the science officer scours the list of results and finds… nothing. Nothing on the list seems strange or unusual; nothing out of line with what was already known about the Skraw vessel and its cargo. The science officer is about to give up and call the result in to the captain when they have a realisation: something was bothering them about the results, but it’s not what //is// on the list, it’s what //isn’t// on it. Even with the layers of shielding, a properly calibrated deep scan should show the signature of trimanganese – but several of the cargo pods show…nothing. There’s definitely mass in them, but whatever it is, it’s //not// trimanganese.

The science officer picks up the comms. “Captain… I think you might want to take a look in cargo pod 3B.”

---

The human away team and their Imm escorts arrive outside the cargo pod. The door is sealed and the Skraw aren’t helping to get it open, but Captain Forthwright uses a simple decoder on her hand-scanner to unlock it. Slowly, the door slides open.

There’s a sharp intake of breath as the people outside take in the pod’s contents. There are bodies in here – Imm bodies. Though even the Imm could be forgiven in failing to recognise some of the twisted husks of their own kind.

Imm Trrum-Intura storms in, and the humans quickly follow. A rapid investigation ensues; no one wants to spend any longer in there than they have to, but it’s eminently clear that they have to get to the bottom of exactly what all this means. It’s not hard – now that they’re looking in the right place, a host of information readily presents itself. 

What this pod contains is the results of experiments to develop a genetic weapon that targets the Imm. Fortunately everything was stowed and sealed; no Imm are at risk from exposure simply from being on the ship, though the contents of some of the vials discovered there would surely be lethal. While information on exactly //who// had carried out this research is obscured, what is very clear is that this was a weapon designed to win a war. The Skraw could never hope to win a head-on war with the Imm; even with allies they’d struggle and incur heavy casualties. But this – if this weapon were deployed, it could wipe out the Imm population of an entire planet in weeks, maybe less.

Before Captain Forthwright can form a plan of how to deal with this, the away team receives news from the //Odyssey//: an Imm battleship has arrived, and its captain is not happy.

**Scene 4**

Regardless of the crew’s goals at this point, Imm Graal-Farrow, captain of the Imm battleship, is growing increasingly agitated at the presence of the //Odyssey// and is requesting their immediate withdrawal. The injured Skraw have all been seen to, and it seems unlikely that the crew will find anything more aboard the Skraw ship – not that what they //have// found isn’t earth-shattering enough – so the Humans have little good reason to remain here.

The Imm plan to keep the Skraw and their ship hostage for now (if “hostage” is the right word – others, such as “evidence”, “examples” and “prisoners” can be heard around the mess hall of the //Odyssey//), though they give the //Odyssey// assurance that the Skraw will not be harmed further as long as they remain compliant. With no further plans or obvious means of helping the situation (and not to mention the combined arsenals of two heavily-armed Imm warships pointed at them), the //Odyssey// retrieves all of its crew from the Skraw vessel and makes to leave. As they do so, they receive a message from Earth Alliance Command telling them to return directly to the nearest Alliance space station for debrief.

**Scene 5**

Arriving back at the nearest Earth Alliance space station, Captain Forthwright and the crew are brought up to speed with the diplomatic situation which has developed further as a consequence of their actions. On the one hand, relations with the Imm are probably better than they ever have been before… though that’s not a very high bar, and in practical terms what that actually means is that the Imm are, for once, open to talks of a non-aggression pact if not an actual alliance. They were impressed at the honour the Humans showed, but want to see if that honour bears out now that the true motives of the Skraw have been revealed.

And then there’s the Skraw, of course. That whole situation is “one hell of a mess”, as many of the crew are putting it. The Earth Alliance cannot possibly condone any of the genetic experiments and weapons testing that the Skraw were clearly undertaking, of course. But the Skraw //have// been steadfast allies for a long time now, with a complex web of trade agreements and research exchange programs. The Skraw government, meanwhile, maintains that they knew nothing of the experiments evidenced on that cargo vessel, and declares them the actions of a radical splinter-group. There is currently no real evidence for or against this claim, but to disbelieve them would only serve to sour relations with them further. And, ends-justified or not, the Skraw are calling the actions of the //Odyssey// a breach of protocol – or, at the very least, a breach of trust – and are calling into question the crew’s motives.

And fundamentally, if it comes to war between the Imm and the Skraw for any reason before any major changes to the political situation can be effected, the Earth Alliance is bound by treaty to come to the Skraws’ aid.

The Fleet Admiral recommends getting the //Odyssey// outfitted with heavier weaponry while they’re here.

</spoiler>

===== The Children of Straxia - Chapter 1 =====

<spoiler|Result>
{{:vignette:the_children_of_straxia.jpg?nolink&450|}}

It is over.

The sounds of revely grow distant, the troupe of adventurers leaving with your family treasure, trophies carved from siblings, your guardian. Very soon the only sound to be heard is the wind whistling through the rocky crevasses, the sputtering of dying flames and the crackle of collapsing hoarfrost. The scene is quite, and still and dead.

Or is it?

There is the scraping of claws against stone as a small green dragon pulls herself from under a macabre pile of her murdered siblings. Saphina. She is the first of the survivors to lay eyes on the ruin that has befallen them.

She stares at for a long time: not a look of shock, or anger, but one of profound sadness on her face. Eventually she hears another, the soft mewling of another drake. A small blue dragon, Kyania, struggles to free themselves from beneath Straxia, almost crushed as their guardian fell. Saphina rushes over to help the small wyrm free. She looks around for the briefest moment before drawing close to the larger dragon.

The pair comfort each other for a moment before moving to the largest of their siblings. A red wyrmling with a vicious scar across her face, Pyropele lies in enchanted sleep, seemingly forgotten after the adventurers incapacitated her. As the two smaller dragons rouse her she glances about, nostrils flaring. “Who else?” She demands.

The three search hard, but only find two more survivors amongst the broken bodies. Serendibian the black, hidden by a spell of invisibility just outside the cave, and Opelion the White, peppered with arrows but having managed to stabilize by himself.

Of all the many adopted siblings, only five survived.

They turn to see what has become of their guardian. The great Purple Wyrm Straxia lies broken at the centre of the cave. Saphiona raises a paw to gently close her great glassy eyes.It is a long time before anyone speaks, but eventually Pyropele talks. “I’m the leader now. Anyone disagree?”

She takes the silence as agreement.

“I’m going to get justice and //you// all are going to help me.”

Opelion fans out his small wings and hisses in anger, “We’re going to kill them.”

Kyania shrinks back from the sudden display of aggression, drawing up against Saphina. The calm green dragon finally looks away from the broken body. “No I don’t think so. I don’t want to be like them. There has to be a better way.”

Opelion immediately pounces on her, bearing Saphina to the ground. “You sniveling, ungrateful lizard!”

Serendibian immediately leaps between the two, pushing the white drake away. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not fight among ourselves… there aren’t that many of us left.” Opelion growls and raises a claw.

Pyropele roars and the squabbling wyrmlings break apart. 

Spahina pushes herself to her back to her feet, rolling her eyes. “Would you give them the satisfaction of being justified in what they did? I’m certainly not. I don’t know about //you// but //I’m// better than that.”

Pyropele growled, “There //must// be justice for what they did here.”

Spahina, “I agree, but we will do it better. Lets go to the village and tell them what they did. We’ll make sure everyone knows that they aren’t heroes, they’re thieves and murders.”

Opelion growls and begins to speak when there is a clattering from the cave entrance. The Wyrmlings turn to see a human with a bow sneaking into the cave.

Seizing the initiative, Opelion leaps at the human with lightning speed. Though smaller than them, the momentum barrels them to the ground. The human screams as the white dragon digs his teeth into their shoulder.

“Wait!” Saphina yells.

Pyropele leaps to pin the humans other arm as they go to reach for their bow. Serendibian leaps to the fore as well, shouldering getting between Opelion and the human to limit the damage they can do.

“You bit me!” the human mewls. They struggle but with the three dragons sitting on top of them there isn’t much they can do.

“Quit your whining, it's not anything a short rest won’t fix,” Pyropele growls.

The adventurer looks to panic, clearly overpowered. “Don’t become an adventurer, they said. You’ll get eaten by dragons, they said.”

“We’re not going to eat you...” Saphina begins, but turning to Opelions bloody jaws. “At least any more of you. What are you doing here?”

“I was just following the adventures. I figured, you know, there might be… leftovers.”

Opelion sinks his teeth into the wannabe-adventurers arm and he screams. 

Pyropele leaned in close, “Now you’re going to tell us exactly where those adventurers came from. And then you’re going to lead us there. And then you’re going to tell everyone how we didn’t eat you. Capiche?”

“You’re not the boss of -”

Pyropele digs her claws into the adventurers side.

“Alright, alright. Jeez. They’re in Townsburg, the town. We’re at the bottom of the mountain, past the forest. If they got lots of treasure they’re probably going to the tavern to celebtrate. Ah geez, I’m going to miss out on the free beers.”

“Somebody get some of that rope the adventurers left, ” Pyropele commands. “Tie this… what was your name again?”

“They call me… Frilbo.”

“Tie this Frilbo up. And gag him too. We’re going to this Townsburg, to have a word with these adventurers.”

“And register our complaints in the strongest possible language,” Saphina adds.

Opelion growls in the background.

</spoiler>
User Tools

Site Tools

Page Tools
