faderift | CLOSED | treehaus.

Entry tags:

CLOSED | treehaus.

WHO: Jone, James Holden, Beth Greene, Gabranth, Margaery Tyrell, Adrasteia, Edgard
WHAT: Haunted hedge maze.
WHEN: Mid-Ferventis
WHERE: Orlais!
NOTES: A way less sexy Labyrinth.

WHAT'S GOING ON: To review, Jone has been asked to sort out a hedge maze on the Gaume estate. It seems to be haunted-- spirits have taken the form of various plants and trees within the huge hedge maze out back. While traveling through the maze, the walls will shift; your characters will be split up into groups, re-split, etc.

While it's possible to beat the shit out of some enchanted plantlife, for whatever reason, you can't hack your way through the walls of the maze. More shrubbery grows in its place no matter what you do. Otherwise, this would be over very quickly. Don't question it. This is a video game, and we should probably just all relax.

HOW DO THE MECHANICS WORK: This is a plot with rolling!

The main focus of the plot will be overcoming riddles and puzzles to reach the end, but you can get clues with rolls. Unlike in Murderhaus, rolls function to investigate the situation, not determine the outcome of actions (IE, I'll give you clues). When you want to roll, put ROLL in the subject of your comment, and bold what your character is investigating. I will reply with a clue, the helpfulness of which will be determined by behind-the-scenes rolls. Likewise, since there is a plant NPC for each scenario, do the same to ask them a question; their helpfulness will be determined by rolls as well.

For example: Bob studies at the strange pattern of pebbles on the ground, etc. Alice asks the enchanted tree, "what the fuck?" and so on.

If you think you've come up with the answer to the riddle, put ANSWER in the subject line, so I know to pop in and NPC spirits' reactions, etc.

(I've purposefully given you guys puzzles and riddles that have multiple potential answers! Likewise, if you come up with something I wasn't expecting but still works, I'll count it as a success. I'm not here to make anyone squirm. Have fun, and if you get bored of a puzzle, do the following...)

If your characters are out of ideas and just want to move on to the next action, put NO ANSWER in your subject line, and feel free to wreck the shit out of some enchanted shrubbery. While your characters can't beat up the walls, decimating any spirit-enchanted topiary NPCs will get them through the conundrum. I won't need to NPC this, because the spirits won't put up much of a fight. Please imagine some sad little Henson-esque 'wahh oh noooo' noises, though.

If you have any questions, hit me up!

After characters have solved a certain amount of puzzles / riddles, I'll open up a new toplevel and link you to it for endgame. Instructions on how that will work will be revealed there.

WHAT DOES MY CHARACTER SEE:

Upon coming up to the maze, the entrance is blocked by a network of vines, all entangled in one central knot. A spectral voice emanates from the maze:

O! Challenger, come forward now,
to give us peace in your solemn vow:
untie this knot and enter as our true friend.

Jone studies the knot before rolling her eyes and slicing it through with her poleaxe. There is a screeching scream from somewhere far off, twisted and inhuman. The cut vines turn vengeful, and quickly pull Jone inside the maze before here is time to react.

Entering the maze, there is no sign of Jone or where she may be. The hedge walls quickly begin to shift, separating the group.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Beth spends a little while trying to find the way back, and then just trying to make herself breathe normally. There are more riddles to solve, while her heartbeat settles back into its usual rhythm, and she kind of sucks at them--everything in her that was ready to solve problems is burnt-up ashes right now. All she really wants is for this to be over.

But Gabranth's warnings still chase her, everything that boils down to if Jone's dead, it'll be your fault, and when she no longer feels like she might barf into one of the hedges, she knows it's at least partly true. Jone's gone, and they need her back.

She's already running toward the huge tree when she realizes consciously what the flash of red in its boughs must mean. Jone's up there somehow, and all they'll need to do is climb up. God, please don't let her be dead. Please don't be dead. Please don't--

Of course, then it talks, and she skids to a halt, a brand-new adrenaline pumping through her veins as she stares up at the thing that has Jone. She'd really thought it was just a tree, not an extra from The Wizard of Oz. Swallowing down a wave of fear, she asks tentatively, "D'you wanna ask them or me?"

"My kin have told me all about the trials you faced and braved without fear or reckless violence, courage favor'd."

The tree is clearly aware of the woman in its branches, for it moves carefully to avoid jostling her. A careful eye will spot her twitching slightly, as though fighting off a poor dream. For that, the tree's voice is softer:

"But I wish to know how you'd judge your actions."

Without fear or reckless violence. She wonders if that's a slight against Jone, the way she cut open the vines at the start. Maybe they'd all have ended up trapped in the creature's branches if they'd done similar.

"I--" Beth swallows, thinking of the way Gabranth stood like he wanted to block out the sun. She didn't come out of that looking great, either, probably. Trying to judge any of it just makes her chest ache with remembered burdens. "I could've done better. But I didn't wanna hurt your garden--we didn't wanna."

The tree hrrms at this, branch-fingers scratching its bark-chin. "In truth I find your actions just, though my thoughts must wander as needs must to why you would think so kindly at our hindrance?"

Which is, at least, easier to answer than everything before, how'd you do? She shrugs. "It's better than fighting you, isn't it?"

"It has been pointed out to me, the carer for this woodland sea, that our tests and tricks will earn us no good favor."

Jone, still in the tree's branches, seems to have woken upon being mentioned. "Don't talk about me like I ain't here." She looks to Beth, and her stormy expression lightens. "Oh, fuck, finally."

Sorry, weird tree-guy. Beth's eyes are drawn to the source of the complaint, and there's a weary sort of relief in her face. "Are you okay?"

Jone begins to kick her way down from the tree's branches, and the tree helps her along. Its long branches-- hands-- catch her and lower her to the ground. She walks toward Beth with a look of concern.

"You've not been hurt? I've only had this blighter for company, and he won't tell me at all what you've been up to."

"I'm fine." She's too wrung out to try and put up a cheerful front, but this much is true: no one's hurt her.

And Jone's okay, too, judging by a worried glance over her. She's a lot better than Beth assumed at first, seeing her crumpled in the tree's branches. "Everyone else is...I think they're still getting through the maze."

Jone rubs at her face. She can tell the girl's tired, and that's to be expected. The fact that Beth's the first to get through is a laugh, but not a very funny one.

"C'mere, luv, let's get you rested. Naught to do here but wait."

Soft grass sways underfoot, and it becomes clearer as they walk that the heart of the maze is an overgrown stone garden. Mossy statues peek behind overgrown hedges, and there's a worn wooden bench to sit down on.

"This lot didn't try to fight you, did it?" She hooks her thumb back at the tree, still silently watching, over her shoulder. A bird flies from its branches, trilling softly.

"No." She takes a seat on the bench, curling her feet up under her. After everything that happened in the the labyrinth, she's ready for a break. "Whatever spirits they have haunting the garden, they're all pretty nice."

Nice enough that she's starting to wonder why they have to change any of it. Maybe they could just convince the tree creature to make friends with the guy who owns the place. Aside from that sinkhole, the maze is more fun like this than it'd be without the puzzles. (Depending on the company, at least.)

"The, um...the tree," she says, her voice pitched low enough that (she hopes) he won't hear. "Are there a lot of those in Thedas?"

Jone's first response to a worn out child, one she knows and trusts, is that arm around the shoulder. It's something that's lead others to assume much of her maternal instincts, which in truth don't really exist. It's easy to comfort someone when you know they need it. Harder to provide, so she doesn't bother. But in this moment, it's an easy thing, to let Beth rest her head on Jone's shoulder.

"Sylvans, the are. Got lucky. Spirits are all through this place, not demons. Think that one's a... curiosity spirit or something." Do those exist? Surely a mage knows, but not Jone.

"We should let them stay here." There's still tension running through her body, nothing about her really ready to lay her head against anyone's arm. But Jone means well, and she's not in a mood to shake off this particular good intention. So she sits up there, a warm, heavy arm around her shoulders, and adds, "They aren't hurting anybody."

"Forget you're new," Jone says, but her tone is light; it isn't an admonishment. "Spirits turn into demons like-" she snaps her fingers- "they're a danger, here. And this is someone's property. They'd like it back."

"What about the, um, the sylvan?" Maybe he's like the spirits in the hedges, a demon waiting to happen. But it's hard to imagine telling a tree to leave, stupid elementary-school jokes aside.

"Most sylvans are demons. I've felled my share," Jone says. "We're dead lucky they ain't violent. Just want to know how we think, what we do. Kept going on about it, this one."

"If they aren't violent--" Why are you killing them? All it wants is to know things, and God, who doesn't? She's careful about finishing that thought, aware of the fact that it'll take time to get back to Kirkwall, and Jone'll be in charge the whole way. "If it was a person at the middle of the maze, we wouldn't kill them."

"A person in the middle of this maze would be a poacher on noble lands, and the law about that lot is clear." Do they just let anyone go anywhere, in Beth's home? "This is a noble estate. But this lot has reason. I'm hoping one of you will be clever enough to convince them to just... bloody leave. You're all educated... 'side from Ed."

Some more than others, but the fact remains.

"Maybe when we're all here." Not something she's looking forward to, but they might be able to. It feels hopeful, and she'd rather have hope, if she can. "They really kill people for hunting, huh."

"'Course they can. It's their land." She pats Beth's shoulder absently.

If she's honest, she doesn't want the stupid buggers to go up in flames. It'd too easily set the rest of the maze aflame, and Gaume had been pretty clear about wanting that intact. Jone doubts that'll matter much to Beth, though, who seems to be advocating for spirits. Odd bird, she is.

"I'm sure Gab and I can get rid of this lot, if they won't be convinced. That ain't what you want to hear, I know, but believe me, getting the job done is the most important thing."

Yeah, but it's murder. Basically. It feels like it, anyway--even after the turn, they wouldn't've shot somebody without at least talking to them. Living with other people feels like it should be worth more than a couple of deer. She knows better than to say that, though. Some things are different here, and she isn't exactly raring to get into another fight today.

"I'll try and convince them." And, after a moment or two, she asks, "He lets you call him Gab?"

"A dear, you are," she says in thanks. It's a pithy little thing, but Jone knows where her strengths are, and where they very much aren't. She huffs out a laugh at the mention of Gabranth's various nicknames. "If he wanted me to stop, what could he do about it?"

Beth shrugs one shoulder, eyes on the garden around them. "He doesn't like it when he doesn't get what he wants."

"Most don't," Jone says, "but he can be an especial twat about it, you're right."

"Yeah." And that's all she says about that--or anything else, for that matter--for the moment. Nothing else she could come up with would compare with a sunny summer afternoon in a garden full of blooming flowers; it's doing a hell of a lot more for her mood than starting in on Gabranth would.

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