It was time to play a game.
The biggest, best game Torchline had ever seen.
Trinket stood atop the road, looking down over the city as it slept. Late at night, late late at night, when nearly everyone slept in their beds. When they woke, the game would begin, a day that they’d never forget.
She held up a pole with a cross at the top. Merchants used it in the market, holding their wares up high so they could be seen. Their wares were locked up at night, but locks opened easily. She just told them to open, open, open. So she had everything she needed.
Hung from the cross, little silver bells rung, alongside little lamps with colored glass. She had captured fireflies to light up the game. Their shining little lights sparkled through the colors in the glass, creating a glittering rainbow in the night. The bells, she commanded to play their song. Silvery chimes rang in the air, carried over the streets of the sleeping city.
With everything ready, the demigoddess began her march.
Down the streets, around every bend, past each house she saw. Each house she passed, she gave little commands. Unlock she commanded the doors. Open she commanded the windows. One by one, she peeked inside, finding the sleeping children. They woke to the bells, rubbing their eyes. She beckoned them forth, luring them from their beds while their parents slept.
“We’re going to play a game,” she told them. “The best game ever.”
The children were quite excited. Out at night, past their bedtimes, being naughty little boys and girls.
“Bring your friends,” she told them. “We need everyone to come play. But,” she put a finger to her lips, “don’t tell the grown ups.”
She led the children down the street, now with others playing the game. They knocked on windows, whispered to their friends, bringing out more little ones to play. Trinket led them from the front, holding up her musical pole. Fireflies twinkling, twinkling. Silver bells ringing, ringing. She commanded windows to open, called for children to come forth. More and more, the streets did fill, with all the little children come to play.
Some grown ups tried to stop their game. Trinket didn’t let them interfere. When she saw a grown up coming, she commanded their doors to close and lock. When someone got too close, she commanded their belts to unbuckle, their pants to drop around their ankles, their shoe laces to tie together. Some found their children, to be sure, and led them back home. But many many more parents slept, or were left behind by Trinket’s tricks.
Down around the winding streets, the parade of children went. Down towards the beaches, down towards the shore. On and on she led the children, down towards the caves. It was nearly dawn when they reached Rae’s Fingers, and the children were growing tired. Soon, they would rest.
Trinket led the children through the caves, following the smugglers’ paths. She’d been made with knowledge of all the world, of languages, secrets, and codes. She followed the path to the deepest depths, where the caves were cold and damp. The children began to shiver. Some began to cry. They had followed the music, followed the lights, but now they were lost, lost, lost, far from their beds and homes. Far from the parents who woke to the sight of empty children’s beds and windows left wide open. Far from safety, far from light. The children were filled with fright.
Once they were deep, and lost, and alone, Trinket brought the parade to a halt. She stood on a rock, still holding her pole, looking out over the eyes of the lost. So many children, so many hopes, so many dreams of life. And all would be lost, be lost, be lost, unless the game could be won.
“Don’t worry,” she said, her mouth in a smirk, “your parents will come, I’m sure. So let us all play, as the dawn breaks this day, while we wait for the players to come.”
The children huddled up close, filled with tears and lost hope, unable to find a way out. And now Trinket’s game was ready to start, and the sands of the hourglass poured. Hours to wait, as the tides slowly rose, and the players of Torchline did search. And when hours would pass, It could be their last, unless the game could be won of course. If the players lost, then children’s lives would be lost, and that would be Torchline’s end.
And so Trinket waited, the game now begun, for the players to come down and play. And whether the parents of Torchline would win, only the passing of time would say.
Trinket’s Quest has begun.
Many children of Torchline have been lured away from their beds.
The goal of this quest is to find the children before high tide. But the city of Torchline must also be saved from itself. Parents wake panicking, desperate for answers. Those who lost children may lash out or riot. Those whose children are still home are scared and defensive, ready to fight for their children’s lives. Post your awakening to the chaos that follows, and be ready to start up your search.
Do you want to play a game?
1.Trinket
2. Dantalion
3. Esmerelda (NPC)
4. Darkeye
The biggest, best game Torchline had ever seen.
Trinket stood atop the road, looking down over the city as it slept. Late at night, late late at night, when nearly everyone slept in their beds. When they woke, the game would begin, a day that they’d never forget.
She held up a pole with a cross at the top. Merchants used it in the market, holding their wares up high so they could be seen. Their wares were locked up at night, but locks opened easily. She just told them to open, open, open. So she had everything she needed.
Hung from the cross, little silver bells rung, alongside little lamps with colored glass. She had captured fireflies to light up the game. Their shining little lights sparkled through the colors in the glass, creating a glittering rainbow in the night. The bells, she commanded to play their song. Silvery chimes rang in the air, carried over the streets of the sleeping city.
With everything ready, the demigoddess began her march.
Down the streets, around every bend, past each house she saw. Each house she passed, she gave little commands. Unlock she commanded the doors. Open she commanded the windows. One by one, she peeked inside, finding the sleeping children. They woke to the bells, rubbing their eyes. She beckoned them forth, luring them from their beds while their parents slept.
“We’re going to play a game,” she told them. “The best game ever.”
The children were quite excited. Out at night, past their bedtimes, being naughty little boys and girls.
“Bring your friends,” she told them. “We need everyone to come play. But,” she put a finger to her lips, “don’t tell the grown ups.”
She led the children down the street, now with others playing the game. They knocked on windows, whispered to their friends, bringing out more little ones to play. Trinket led them from the front, holding up her musical pole. Fireflies twinkling, twinkling. Silver bells ringing, ringing. She commanded windows to open, called for children to come forth. More and more, the streets did fill, with all the little children come to play.
Some grown ups tried to stop their game. Trinket didn’t let them interfere. When she saw a grown up coming, she commanded their doors to close and lock. When someone got too close, she commanded their belts to unbuckle, their pants to drop around their ankles, their shoe laces to tie together. Some found their children, to be sure, and led them back home. But many many more parents slept, or were left behind by Trinket’s tricks.
Down around the winding streets, the parade of children went. Down towards the beaches, down towards the shore. On and on she led the children, down towards the caves. It was nearly dawn when they reached Rae’s Fingers, and the children were growing tired. Soon, they would rest.
Trinket led the children through the caves, following the smugglers’ paths. She’d been made with knowledge of all the world, of languages, secrets, and codes. She followed the path to the deepest depths, where the caves were cold and damp. The children began to shiver. Some began to cry. They had followed the music, followed the lights, but now they were lost, lost, lost, far from their beds and homes. Far from the parents who woke to the sight of empty children’s beds and windows left wide open. Far from safety, far from light. The children were filled with fright.
Once they were deep, and lost, and alone, Trinket brought the parade to a halt. She stood on a rock, still holding her pole, looking out over the eyes of the lost. So many children, so many hopes, so many dreams of life. And all would be lost, be lost, be lost, unless the game could be won.
“Don’t worry,” she said, her mouth in a smirk, “your parents will come, I’m sure. So let us all play, as the dawn breaks this day, while we wait for the players to come.”
The children huddled up close, filled with tears and lost hope, unable to find a way out. And now Trinket’s game was ready to start, and the sands of the hourglass poured. Hours to wait, as the tides slowly rose, and the players of Torchline did search. And when hours would pass, It could be their last, unless the game could be won of course. If the players lost, then children’s lives would be lost, and that would be Torchline’s end.
And so Trinket waited, the game now begun, for the players to come down and play. And whether the parents of Torchline would win, only the passing of time would say.
Trinket’s Quest has begun.
Many children of Torchline have been lured away from their beds.
The goal of this quest is to find the children before high tide. But the city of Torchline must also be saved from itself. Parents wake panicking, desperate for answers. Those who lost children may lash out or riot. Those whose children are still home are scared and defensive, ready to fight for their children’s lives. Post your awakening to the chaos that follows, and be ready to start up your search.
Do you want to play a game?
1.Trinket
2. Dantalion
3. Esmerelda (NPC)
4. Darkeye
