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

level 1 - /the latest

[inferus]

It's the magic he senses within the Labyrinth that draws Wrath's attention.

The magic itself is unlike any he has sensed before from those within their group or within this world itself. It must be a new arrival. They've all been tasked with making it to the top of the tower to burn their talismans, and Wrath has always believed the entire group is likely needed to see the entire group back through the beacons and back into their own worlds. Beyond that, Wrath would highly prefer it if this entire city didn't evade all of his senses in terms of revealing who is dead and who is alive.

He follows the call of the magic until he's rounding the corner to where the magic was coming from with a long battle-axe in hand (wishing he had a sharper one he'd had made himself from his own collection, but this will do at present). He's prepared to do battle to whatever is causing the danger to one of their own. His bloodlust spiked by a tower full of monsters that remind him vaguely of his own.

[strewth]

Knee deep in bilge water, fighting unknown horrors, John isn't quite out of his element, yet. Yes, the fighting but has him on the wrong foot-- direct conflict has never been his cuppa. But magic and mayhem isn't unfamiliar.

Under his breath, a litany, "Morax, O Earl of Hell, O poxy wanker, you owe me a bloody favor."

A surge of power-- something, but not much. John would need a proper circle, candles and votives all, to make this a real beacon, and if he were going to do that, he'd call on the aid of a demon a mite bit more notable than sodding Morax. But it works for now, illuminating the labyrinth in John's mind, leading him down the right path, to- a stranger.

Well, what else is new. Between grit teeth, John growls, "bloody hide, I'm not here to babysit."

In the distance, a rumbling growl-- an intruder stumbling forth, closer, closer.

[inferus]

The voice immediately makes him realize who this is: John Constantine. Wrath pays attention to the network even when he does not respond to the posts made on it. More than that, Five felt it important to warn him after the conversation he had with the man who uses demons. It would explain the magic he sensed - not exactly like any he has felt before, but it was clearly reaching out beyond this realm.

Wrath raises an eyebrow at that, not moving at all beyond lifting the axe again and turning toward the sound of the creature's approach. "It would appear you are the one in need of a babysitter."

He carries no weapon on him - certainly does not have the physical prowess of someone who regularly goes up against demons. Is his magic more powerful than the spell he released in the halls then?

The beast draws closer, and Wrath raises his weapon in answer to it. When the minotaur appears around the corner, it is still stumbling forward heavily, but it clearly does not see them yet ( a very bad eye sight then )- no, it's following their scent, their sounds. It swings when it is close enough, but Wrath reacts by blocking the blow with his axe before it can connect.

[strewth]

Morax, Earl-proxy of Asterion, is a cheap date at the best of times. The momentary rush of power is a farce, not good in any proper fight, but it should unsettle the minotaur in front of them. Sigils and signs, magic is all symbols, and a minotaur demon is an important thing to put an actual-bloody-minotaur on the back-foot.

The creature before them shifts on its hooves, sniffs the air, suddenly cut from battle rage. It's an opening.

John looks to his new companion. "G'wan then!"

[inferus]

Wrath appreciates getting an eyeful of that magic firsthand, watching the effect it has on the minotaur to confuse it even in the middle of its bloodlust. Which is a shame. He was enjoying the rage of the beast, but instead of walking away - that confusion does give him the opportunity he needs, Wrath reaches out with one hand and then encases the monsters legs entirely in ice freezing it to the floor so it cannot follow them as easily. It is not like Wrath to walk away from a battle - the General of War prefers fighting in them, but he is currently accompanied by a fragile mortal.

The ice will not last. This world and this Labryinth have reduced his power, but it will hold for the moment. He pulls his axe and walks around the minotaur, assuming John will follow.

"What spell was that?"

[strewth]

"Weren't a spell," John huffs, panting as he runs. The man sounds like he smokes a pack a day, which is astounding, because he smokes well more than that. "Calling in a favor. Couldn't you have killed it with that flashy bollocks?"

[inferus]

"From a demon?" Wrath asks, which is essentially what he'd gotten from the conversation Five showed him. This is not how summoning works in his own world, but there was a flash of it in the magic that drew his attention initially, calling to something beyond. He raises an eyebrow. "No. It unfortunately cannot be killed. I imagine its lifeforce is tied to the Labyrinth in some way."

[strewth]

"Burn the labyrinth, then, Christ Almighty, show some initiative." Excuse him while he has a rant, stomping through bilge water and filth. He leans against the nearest bit of clean wall and takes a few gulps of air, catching his breath.

"Demons, mate. Have to follow rules. I did him a good turn, and he owed me one."

[inferus]

"I realize you appear to be impaired, but that was ice not fire and this world impedes my power, which is probably for this own world's benefit."

Wrath raises both eyebrows as he watches the man take in gulps of air and lean against the wall. He is apparently even more fragile than most mortals. Will he keel over and die this very instant? "Do they? The rule of following a bargain clearly." He is curious if there are other rules. "You must have done that demon a large favor to be granted assistance from such a distance."

There's no access to Hell here that he has found. He does not think this world has a Hell (or at least not one run efficiently as his own) given the tendency for spirits to remain lingering for a long time past death.

[strewth]

"Not a fan of Frost, I take it."

John rubs at his face, the wet mop of his hair. He's not combat proficient, and he feels it with every screaming muscle, every aching bruise.

"Morax? Nah, mate, it were a bit of skulduggery, just keeping his name off His Nibs' list of betrayers. Thought he'd make a move for power, Morax did. No-mark bollocksed it up."

[inferus]

"I'm unfamiliar with the name," Wrath admits - both names actually. He is unfamiliar with Frost because his work comes out in the future in his world and unfamiliar with the name of the demon, which he dislikes. He dislikes the idea there are other mortal worlds out there with their own sets of demons with their own rules.

It certainly isn't the name of any of his brothers. It makes him wonder which of the terminology is shared, which isn't. The plays on power are familiar, and demons are generally beholden to their word, which is why he is always careful with them: his words. Actions are far more meaningful.

"I would ask if he is a lesser demon, but I find it unlikely one would have the power to honor a deal across worlds."

[strewth]

John recites it off the top of his head, because it helps him focus, fighting down the panic bubbling up in his windpipe. "Foraii, Marax, Farax, Morax, lesser Earl of hell, commands two-and-thirty legions of the Fallen. Can be bound to teach the secrets of astronomy, herbology and the study of precious gems, which I reckon mattered more before they invented wikipedia. Terrible at cards. No poker face whatsoever."

[inferus]

Wrath's gaze narrows. Distantly, he keeps himself aware of the halls of the Labyrinth, of the monsters that prowl it. None of the names are ultimately familiar to him nor is mention of the legions of the Fallen. He supposes that references all the demons who Fell from Heaven as Wrath once did. He was the first - better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.

"...can be bound? You can simply bind a demon for lessons?"