the clock tower

[groundrules]

Happy Hallow-elevator! The clock tower event lasts between 22 October and 8 November. ICly, the tower incursion stretches around a week, and you’re welcome to have your character investigate something else, if they finish early!

THE CLOCK TOWER

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ALL IS AS ALL WAS| TRIAL & NO ERRORS | THE TOWER

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ALL IS AS ALL WAS

Play it cool, as Serthica’s customs officers pore over your passport papers, before grudgingly allowing you overground. Minaras, you hear, is hunting a delinquent.

Both it and Eidris fare well, with no sign of the damage that preceded the Unwinding. Locals no longer behave eerily, dragons and clockwork droids roam freely, and everyone hates taxes.

Yet perfect strangers insist they know you. Your assigned address leads to a different house. The roads, buildings and architecture look ‘lived in,’ but changed.

No one remembers the Unwinding.

■ Burlap mannequins sometimes watch from mirrors, windows and reflecting surfaces.

■ You might hear shifting and scratching in Eidris walls.

■ Minaras has doubled its bounty for a man not unlike Leonard McCoy.

■ Black fungal spores are found on the increasingly voluminous experiment vials, specimens and supplies thrown out by Minaras medical facilities.

■ Frail and confused, Ellethia survivor Zenobius finally awakens. A short thread is up for RNG grabs.

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TRIALS & NO ERRORS

The guard troops that Eidris and Minaras assign to the Neutral Zone now protect King Thivar and High Councillor Arabella during the annual Sanctuary Reckoning trials. Both adjudicate cases that violate the ceasefire.

Prolonging the trials buys time for your companions in the clock tower.

■ Create a distraction — flood the judgement hall rooms? Fire? Illusions?

■ Pose as trial participants: perhaps you are of Eidris, and you caught this wicked Minaraian raiding your home? Mayhap this wretched man of Eidris stole your girlfriend? Wait, you’re a Minaraian who wants to kill King Thivar?

■ …organise breakouts, if Thivar or Arabella have your jailed. You are first imprisoned in makeshift Sanctuary cells — all but poorly locked, glorified closets. Get a trial sentence!

■ Thivar and Arabella treat the trials as a box-ticking exercise.

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THE TOWER

As Eidris and Minaras play court, you can infiltrate the Neutral Zone clock tower of Vassarizhia.

■ Only token security remains. The door is unlocked.

■ Karsa supplies paper talismans that must be burned in the watch fire at the tower’s top level.

■ Each burned talisman amplifies the reveal spell that Karsa activates. Link a finished burning thread by 8 November to help the cause.

■ A November mod post will describe how much of Serthica’s ‘undeath’ characters can see.

■ Placing Magnus’ dragon eye before the tower’s telescope will allow characters to always see Serthica’s undeath, moving forward.

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✘ ELEVATOR ETIQUETTE

Imperfect stillness dominates Vassarizhia: your footsteps do not click, words die in your mouth. The tower’s rickety gear slither silently. Your heartbeat aligns with the clock’s tick… tock.
You have the growing, gnarly certainty that you have invaded something ancient and alive.

The tower’s entryway level is large, deserted, stacked with gears. At its core is a dilapidated open elevator shaft.

A large sign says to find and pull the floor lever, if elevators stop.

■ There are two elevators. Each narrow lift can hold up to four people, crammed. The upper half of the carriage is chain-link fence, while the floors contain hatches that sometimes open mid-travel for 30 seconds. Hold on to ceiling-bound leather straps.

■ The ropes holding the elevators are thick, but tattered.

■ The elevator’s creaking squeals can awaken swarms of 1m-tall bats and bat wyverns. They rattle the lift, but ultimately withdraw.

■ The elevator can stop at as many levels as you want (or none!).

■ Beyond the second level, you feel intensely paranoid and see your companions as the persons you most hate/fear for five to 10 minutes. Reaching the top, you are tempted to cut the lift ropes of those who follow. (The ropes and elevators recover, after crashing to the bottom. )

■ On each floor, as you exit the elevator, a nearby wall shows a different scratched instruction, signed by DAVID.

LEVEL I: THE LABYRINTH| LEVEL II: THE ANCESTOR | LEVEL III: TAG! YOU’RE IT
LEVEL IV: THE ROOM WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS | LEVEL V: IT’S RAINING (AGAIN)

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LEVEL I: THE LABYRINTH
CONTENT WARNING: MINOTAUR, BODY HORROR

Step into a jail maze, flooded to knee level. Confusing corridors narrow, widen and contort, while wall torches dim.

Intermittent howling reveals you’re not alone. Hiding, you see child-like chalk drawings of forest animals on walls — and a great minotaur. Keep silent.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY.

■ Collect some of the many discarded daggers or axes. Rope bundles float in water — use them to paralyse your captive or briefly force them under your control.

■ Don’t linger in one place: rotting, bodiless hands surface to restrain you.

■ Bad news, if you swallow water when the minotaur or dead hands try to drown you: your skin stretches and bursts, while your bones pop and extend. You mutate into a half human, half woodland creature, all bloodlust. ( Inspiration, anyone? ) Your companions should still recognise you; between hazy memories and constant pain, you might struggle to remember them and even attack.

■ Morphed characters can (painfully) return to normal within minutes of re-entering the elevator.

■ A smaller and distressed three-headed minotaur also roams the labyrinth. Two of its heads sob, while the third urges you to hide with it when brother approaches. It tries to throttle you with a noose to make brother happy, if you follow. David did say.

■ The minotaur and its sibling have poor sight. They cannot enter a corridor where you’ve drawn or laid down a line.

■ Pull the lever, and a straight corridor leads you to the elevator.

TOP | LEVEL II | LEVEL III | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

LEVEL II: THE ANCESTOR
CONTENT WARNING: GIANT SKELETON, BLOOD DRINKING

Here, only barren stone and thin rivulets of fresh water pouring from wall fountains with sharp-tipped ornaments — your spilled blood quickly infects the basins. Knives, pins and bowls have been abandoned nearby.

High pressure and vertigo overwhelm you. Follow a rhythmic heaving to where the upper half of an enormous skeleton — the Ancestor — has broken through a wall. White, silk thread fetters it. Dried blood rims its cracked mouth. Before it, the stone floor has been tarnished, up to a 5m radius.

The Ancestor appears dormant, a crown of iron thorns on its head. It clutches the lever tightly in its right hand. Above it, an engraving urges, SPILL WINE FOR YOUR ANCESTOR.

■ David S P’s elevator scrawl says, WATER TO WINE.

■ Dally staring and you feel dizzy, nauseous, depressed and compelled to share your close-death encounters. Before you know it, you are stepping into the Ancestor’s radius…

■ …where it plunges for you, if you don’t bear a filled cup. The silk ropes keep the Ancestor from reaching beyond 5m.

■ Two carvings under his fists read HONOUR THY FATHER and DISHONOUR THY MOTHER.

■ Quickly distract the Ancestor from crumbling his captives, tearing their arms or attempting to eat them.

■ The Ancestor is instinct-driven, consumed by thirst. It cannot see or smell, and only remembers taste. Sounds divert it.

■ Improvise: there is no actual wine here. Infuse water, spill blood, or vocally pretend you are delivering wine, and the Ancestor might spare you.

■ If sated, the Ancestor releases the lever.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL III | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

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LEVEL III: TAG! YOU’RE IT
CONTENT WARNING: SCARECROW, SKINNED CREATURES

Enjoy pitch dark, dread and bile spreading in your gut. Take a candle from near the elevator and roam through small, unlocked rooms that feature tattered beds, strips of tanning leather and blood or wax spilled on the floor.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, O CATCHES IT.

■ Ahead, you see candle-bearing mannequins that dance a hora to the same song played by Jim Kirk’s music box: “Up the mountain, in the grove, hand in hand to Ke-Waihu, fresh harvest’s a treasure trove, each fall we feast anew.”

■ The creatures are patched abominations of wax, skinned flesh and burlap. In the middle of the hora is a wiry scarecrow, eyes blazing with candle fire as it points a large cleaver. In certain lights, the scarecrow’s face briefly contorts into that of your mother. It wears priestly robes that Arc III survivors may recognise from the House of Ravens.

■ As the dance finishes, you notice the lever in the middle of the circle, where flame spells out TAKE THEM, NOT ME. The game begins.

■ The abominations run, gleefully manic and screaming TAAAA~AAAAAG. YOU’RE IT! The scarecrow unflinchingly cuts them down while pursuing you. Hide in the abandoned rooms, or risk snuffing your candle to avoid detection.

■ Some abominations slap you, hold you, or alert the scarecrow. Others offer shelter. A few peel off wax skins from their limbs — showing black fungi beneath. They murmur, IT NEVER GOES AWAY.

■ Parchment strips fall from the scarecrow’s sleeves, reading, HAPPY NAME DAY, MOTHER KNOWS BEST, THE SIN RAN DEEPER THAN SKIN, IF YOU CAN BEAR IT, IT’S A GAME.

■ Bless David: draw the scarecrow into a drawn or makeshift circle to trap it.

■ Intense, paralysing fear arrests you, if the scarecrow catches you. The wax abominations chant, TAKE THEM, NOT ME. One might even take pity and move your numbed mouth to utter the words. Say them — and the scarecrow lands deep cuts on your arms, then pursues your companion.

■ If you betray someone, the abominations take the appearance of your worst version: whether physically mutated, with a temper that amplifies your worst features, or both.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL II | LEVEL IV | LEVEL V

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LEVEL IV: THE ROOM WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS
CONTENT WARNING: MANIPULATION, MENTAL COERCION

You enter a quiet room. The lever sits on a table, beside rope and a dagger. As you approach, your surroundings transform: perhaps your dearest dead appear to warmly welcome you. Crowds of your doubters celebrate your success. Or you are in a calm oasis, where nothing hurts.

■ David S P’s wall scrawl says, THIS DREAM IS A NIGHTMARE.

■ Whatever your deepest wishes, the room’s vivid illusions provide. With time, your beautiful dreams deteriorate into horror. Sometimes, you hear whispers of, Make a wish.

■ The room increasingly drains your life force. Within half an hour, you have gaunt flesh, brittle bones and a hunched back. Or you might feel compelled to harm yourself, clawing your arms and face, or pulling your hair out.

■ The damage comes undone minutes after reaching the elevator.

■ The room focuses on one person: if someone joins you, they see fainter echoes of what the room shows you, but they are not enthralled. They must coax or drag you away.

■ If you are under the room’s influence, it forces you to make any later intruders stay.

TOP | LEVEL I | LEVEL II | LEVEL III | LEVEL V

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LEVEL V: IT’S RAINING (AGAIN)
CONTENT WARNING: PLAGUE, THE CHILD

At the tower’s open-sky top, fire crackles from a small stone pit, shielded by a familiar, immovable blood-spattered white umbrella. Nearby, discover an immense rusted telescope and other discarded astronomy tools.

You trip on rain-battered yellowed bones at every step. One skeletal hand holds a watch piece, engraved for Mr. David Sebastian Pumpkins.

■ David S P’s has only scrawled his signature.

■ You might reach the flame easily, or be overwhelmed by sickness, black fungal spores blooming on your fingers, while you cough blood and experience intense fever. The symptoms wane once you reach the fire.

■ Burn paper talismans and link finished threads to help Karsa’s spell.

■ The child with a fox mask from the Unwinding could appear. Sign up for one of three short threads, which must finalise by 3 November.

NOTES

■ Some of the bigger plot clues have been emphasised, to help navigate through the horror details.

■ You can hit up some NPCs during the trials.

■ Check out plotting posts for last-minute team-ups.

■ Back to the top.

QUESTIONS

Comments

Kahl-175 |⍓| Warframe

[kahl_175]

Trials & No Errors

[kahl_175]

"What?"

Kahl wasn't actually supposed to be at the trials. He got carried along with the group. He didn't get the full explanation of what they're doing until the fancy-looking people started talking. If he had more time, he could come up with a good lie. But he doesn't have time. He's been put in the line to speak. So he sighs, and improvises.

He takes his translator machine out of a pouch on his thigh, holding it out tot he closest person. "Hide for Kahl?" he asks. Whether or not they want to, they may have to--Kahl's waved forward to talk.

Without the machine, everything the fancy people say is just noises. "Kahl doesn't understand what you're saying. But Kahl is here for the trial." To his friend, he's still entirely comprehensible. But anyone not holding a translator will hear something very different:

"Kahl nout oonrrtranr gar sai." He speaks better in Grineer than when he's speaking the Queen's Language, a little faster and more fluid. "Kuut Kahl regre aht trhuad." Grineer is comfortable, but made for Grineer. It works like Grineer brains work, and that's different than most.

And outsiders usually have no idea what to do with Grineer. "This is my translator. They're here to help me," he points to his friend. "Klhus tuu spiakhung whrunr, regre rudeg mae."

He figures this will slow down proceedings for a while.

"Kahl sorry," he says quietly, as the court fills with confused muttering. "Not think of trial fast enough. Kahl stall. You got idea?"

[slippin]

Jimmy's been giving the big guy a wide berth—only common sense until he has more of a feel for his temperament and dietary habits. Unfortunately for him, Jimmy's also dressed in a way that screams lawyer at maximum volume (suit, tie, pocket square, socks that match the pocket square...). He's a natural target, and when Kahl takes out something and thrusts it at him he flinches back, hands half-raised. He barely recovers in time to grab the device before Kahl's summoned forward.

So the pocket square comes in handy—he takes it out, mops his dry brow, and pretends to fuss over the folding of it as he tucks the translator inside. All of it's returned to his breast pocket around the time Jimmy starts to grasp what's going on.

Pretty clever. Even better, potentially a stupendous waste of time.

“That's right,” he says to the court, pausing to nod thoughtfully as Kahl continues in Grineer. “His language is very poetic—beautiful, really, it's a shame more people don't speak it. Some of the music, man. But, um, it can get abstract, so I apologize in advance for any delays in translation and humbly beg the court's patience.”

He turns to Kahl, waving off the apology—matter-of-fact, caught up in the moment. A genuine gleam in his eye. “I just might. Are you, uh, which...” He spins a hand in a circle, strikes a finger through it. Which half are you on? “And what job'd they give you?”

[kahl_175]

"Good." Kahl gives his new friend a tight smile. "Kahl can act stupid. People think Kahl got face for it." And he'd used that before. Somehow, when people thought you were stupid, they also decided you couldn't lie.

"Kahl in Eidris. Dragon racer." His speech is still simple, and it might always be that way. He came out of the cloning lab like this. But this man speaks much, much better than Kahl can. He sounds official. That will help. They can work together on this.

Level I

[kahl_175]

(CW: Body horror)

They found the lever. Good. Bad sounds keep happening, but they're distant. Maybe the big thing didn't know where they are? Neither does Kahl, but his augments have drawn a map as they went. It doesn't look right, but he knows what direction they need to head for.

And so does the big thing. Kahl carefully leans out around a corner, and a massive hand grabs his shoulder plate, yanking him off balance. He crashes into a wall, machete knocked out of his hand as he grapples with the big thing as it pushes him down to the floor. Too strong!

His head goes under the water, air forced out of him. He feels blindly for his machete, metal fingers sliding off it twice before he grips and hacks at it, driving it away. He sits up, choking and gasping on dark water, lungs burning. skin burning. Not water. Something worse.

He pulls himself up, bellowing at the thing and charging, knocking it down, cutting, stabbing. Skin on his lopsided face pulled taught in a snarl, pulling, breaking, shattering.

He doesn't feel it, too angry, to numb. Guts fall out, augments crack and twist into bone. Somehow he can still move, still see when the top of his head falls off, everything inside going with it.

It's not until the big thing can't put up a fight anymore that he stops. Looking for more targets.

No. No. He smacks the side of his broken skull, gripping the edge of it to try and shake the bad thoughts out. Targets. No.

He shudders and draws himself up, leaning against the wall as he finds his balance on clawed feet. He wants to tell his friend to run, but he can't remember how to speak.

[minorgod]

[ Yato's no slouch at fighting, but his new companion's berserker-like rage is a truly frightening thing to behold even for someone who's technically (technically, by way of omission) a War God himself. But Kahl seems to be struggling more once their target is down, beating himself upside of the head, and Yato keeps a wary distance but doesn't flee. ]

Hey. Hey, we did it. Well, you mostly did it. You all right there?

[kahl_175]

[Kahl steps forward, gaining speed as the claws on his new feet dig into the floor. Some part of him doesn't want to, but he doesn't remember why.]

[If he's conflicted, then he won't cut the target. He lashes out with an empty fist, energy flaring from the free-floating bones of his forearm as they struggle to stay together. It hurts. The little thing hurt him. He shouldn't have held back.]

[minorgod]

[ The instinct is there to dodge; he's fast enough to, preternatural, but overlaying that is god-sense, don't run, only prey runs. And sure, he's turned heel plenty of times in the past when he can afford to, when it's only his own pride on the line, but he doesn't here.

Yato takes the strike with a grunt — Kahl is strong, and Yato's used to taking hits from Phantoms (and occasionally other gods). The blow sends him staggering several feet, though Kahl may notice through his affliction that the slip of a young man seems a good deal more sturdy than he looks like he should be.

Still, Yato forces a grin that's only slightly ruined by the bloody corner of his mouth where his skin has split, and makes no move to retaliate. ]

You've got to shake it off, friend. It's hard to come down after going all in like that... I know. But you did it, you won, we can use the lever now. That's what you wanted, right?

[kahl_175]

[Kahl raises his machete, but something is wrong. A sudden impulse strikes, triggered by something in the words. He grabs at his skull again, hurling himself sideways, hollow head smacking hard into the wall. Fossilized skin scrapes rather than bleeds as he slides against it the stone.

Dazed, the conflicted impulse is pulled back under the surface. He staggers forward, lunging at the target. Uncoordinated, but intent on his target.]

[minorgod]

[ Yato glances at the lever, free and clear now, tempting. He knows he's faster, could reach the spot and pull the bar before Kahl could catch him, but...

The massive man charges him again, more unsteady this time but no less frightening a display of power. In an instant, Yato makes a decision and crosses both arms above his head, bracing against the overhead blow. Defensive, not aggressive. Uncoordinated he might be from his previous furor, Kahl's strength would still surely be enough to crack human bones... but Yato absorbs the brunt of it with only a pained grit of teeth and doesn't back away. ]

Hey, snap out of it! I'm not your enemy, we're on the same side here!

[kahl_175]

[More energy flares, ghostly afterimages of limbs passing straight through the block, completely insubstantial. Why isn't the target running? They're supposed to run.

He grabs at the target's arms, raising machete to strike. The tip scrapes noisily against the wall as he pulls back. It should have run.]

Level IV- Happy

[kahl_175]

(CW: cybernetic body modifications, including some creepy eyes in the reference image for Jarka. Optional alcohol mentions in later tags.)

The elevator door opens, and he steps out, confused. The room is very empty, but things smell familiar in here. There are little sounds he hasn't heard since he was taken from home.

And then he's there.

"Aha!" A Grineer voice, and he sees her leaning out from behind a Corpus in a red jumpsuit. He knows them!

"Jarka?"

She grins, skin crinkling around her black prosthetic eyes. "Corpus boy!" Jarka catches Olvar around the chest, dragging him away from what he was doing, but making sure he doesn't stumble. Olvar was a Tech soldier in the Corpus fleet, built to be even taller than Kahl, but he's gentle and clumsy. "See! Kahl is here. Jarka said he would be back today. You owe Jarka now."

"I can't see!" The former crewman staggers around, blinking at Kahl. "Oh. Hey! Glad you could make it!" And it sounds sincere. Olvar has been trying out feeling emotions for free ever since he was brought back to camp, cracked out of his veil and the neural feeds the Corpus used to keep crew focused on Profit. He doesn't sound quite as overwhelmed now.

Jarka lets go of Olvar, leaning in closer to examine the person with Kahl. "You are always collecting new family!"

She cuffs him on the shoulder, and Kahl returns the gesture with a grin. "Always. They good one, Jarka."

"Maybe! Jarka is not convinced yet," she replies with a doubtful tone, before addressing the newcomer, voice more earnest. "Do not worry. Jarka will not shoot. The war is over now."

Level IV- Unhappy

[kahl_175]

(CW: PTSD, binge drinking, religious trauma, dysfunctional family, loss of family members. And as in the previous prompt, beware Jarka's creepy cybernetic eyes in her reference picture.)

Anyone who finds Kahl in the room's clutches will see a camp in the jungle, seated around a fire with a mismatched family.

Jarka's been having more bad thoughts as the night goes along. She's been awake too long, that's when she starts having trouble remembering she's safe.

Kahl tries to speak, coughs, then tries again. His old injuries are hurting bad tonight, and his augments are full of hurt that the metal shouldn't feel. He wants to just lie down and take them off, but not before his brothers were alright. "Jarka--"

"No! Jarka will not rest yet," she snaps. "Jarka has too many voices in head. No sleeping yet, not like Horrek."

Horrek had started happy and talkative, then slurred more and more, and now he's asleep on the floor. He hasn't drunk this much in a while, and his breathing is shallow. Kahl's watching him carefully, in case he needs to be revived.

"I'd like to be him right now," Olvar groans. Sick again, Corpus stomach not working right with Ostron cooking. "But hey, no profit without pain, right?"

"This is why Corpus boy is easy target," Jarka mutters.

"Hah, yeah, good joke."

"Is not a joke," she snaps.

"Oh." Olvar looks hurt for a moment, then blank. He's trying not to feel things again. "Yep. No profit without pain."

"Jarka," Kahl sighs. "Brothers not hurt brothers. We help with bad thoughts. Okay?"

"Yeah, alright. I've had enough of this," Chipper stands up. He hadn't shown his face all night, locked up in his mods. "I'm off. Days like this, I'm not sure why I didn't chuck out me head once I got it off."

That isn't what they need right now. This was all going bad. But things had been bad before. He knows they can get better. He just needs to help them remember how to be good brothers.