The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Tol-in-Gaurhoth LXIII: The Cottage of Lost Play

Mnemosyne · 07-19-2009, 01:02 PM

Rikae was still not sure what to make of having a room that looked almost exactly like her own. Even creepier was the fact that, when going through the large dresser up against the wall, she found clothing not only to her style and taste, but that also fit her perfectly.

The dinner bell sounded. Checking her outfit in the mirror above her dresser one last time, she stepped out of the room and into the hallway of the Cottage of Lost Play.

At almost the same time the door next to hers opened, and a young man, about university age, stepped out. Even though he was in a suit, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he would have done very well on the high seas around Umbar. The hoop in his ear probably didn’t help.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m Rikae.”

“Rikae? Wonderful! I’m Shasta.” Shasta took a look at his appearance. “Hey—we match!” It was true, to an extent: the grey in his suit matched her silver skirt, and they were both wearing turquoise—though hers was bright and shiny and his was more of a teal.

Rikae smiled. “Shall we head down together?”

* * *

The dining room looked so grand that Lalaith almost expected there to be someone announcing her name as she swept down the staircase. It was unnecessarily long, and hugged the walls of the oval-shaped room as it descended from one side to the other. White marble laced with black and gold paved the floor, and the long, black table already had a few occupants.

When she reached the table she saw that placecards had been set forth, all with Downers’ names written on them. Only the head of the table was left unknown. There were fourteen chairs.

Looking around her, she saw some familiar faces as well as a few unknowns. Fea had changed into a silky black halter dress that looked as if it should have been lounging over a roulette table, and Boro had opted out of the classic suit in favor of a black sweater vest.

There was also a blondish man in a white dinner jacket, and a young woman in a dusky rose dress. Upon introducing herself she found that they were Inziladun and Nessa Telrunya. And turning around to the top of the stairway she saw Shasta and Rikae descending.

Lalaith shrugged out of her fur stole and sat down at her place. One by one the Downers made their way to the dining room, and awaited.

* * *

Ten minutes passed, and servers came out from side doors to begin pouring water and wine. The seat at the head of the table was unoccupied. Unsure of what to do, people began to talk about their various experiences on the way over, and about the unsettling nature of this place.

Nerwen began pontificating on the mysterious nature of the scar on her chest that was somewhat hidden by the pendant she wore. Eönwë, for some reason, had to explain to autume98 that his name was not actually “Steve.”

More time passed. Soup was served, then the main course. Given the creepy way these people seemed to know everything about them, Fea was not terribly surprised at this juncture that she was served fish rather than the beef filet everyone else was given. But if anyone cared about how long the steaks were grilled, the cook had not. By the time everyone was finished their plates were swirled with red juices. There was still no sign of their host.

An awkward silence had descended by the time the dessert course was finished. No one was willing to get up. The waiters cleared away the goblets that had held their raspberry sorbet.

A gong sounded.

At the top of the stairs appeared a lady in black. Slowly she descended them, and then smoothly moved to take her place at the head of the table. She pulled off her hat to reveal dark brown hair tightly pulled into a bun, and eyes that burned with a darker fire. Red-gloved fingers rested on an untouched plate.

“I’m sure,” she said, “you’re wondering why you’ve all been called here.”

Silence.

“There are a number of reasons. First of all, I’ve spent a lot of time and effort into this place and I thought it should be seen by those with the capacity to appreciate it.

“Second, I have a… quest, if you will—to perform.

“And third, I find that I like a little conflict in life. An interesting means to perform my quest. And, as such—tonight some of you will find yourselves in a very interesting situation.

“Tomorrow, all of you will. This entire house will be locked until you complete your task, whichever side wins.”

“Whichever side wins?” said Pitchwife. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Three of you will find yourselves filled with an insatiable bloodlust. You may recall the island Sauron ruled in the First Age, filled with, I believe, werewolves? The food you’ve just eaten contains a spell to make you one of them. Quite simple really.”

“But… this is scientifically impossible!” said McCaber. “All of this is!”

“You will find,” said the lady in black, “that many things that are scientifically impossible exist here.

“As I said, three of you will find yourselves becoming werewolves. You cannot survive the night without killing someone; it’s a simple fact of your nature.

“One of you will find yourself having unusually vivid dreams. If you so choose, you can focus them on one person and learn if he or she is one of the werewolves that will be killing you.”

“Killing?” said Nessa.

“Of course. It is everybody else’s role to kill the werewolves during the day, before they kill you. Whoever survives can escape the cottage alive.”

“This is sick!” said autume.

“I know; isn’t it lovely?” said the lady in black. “If you make the deaths entertaining enough, I may let some of you go free early. Oh, and if you don't kill anyone during the day, you all die. Have a pleasant night.”

“She’s joking, right?” said Eönwë.

IT IS NOW NIGHT ONE.

07-19-2009, 01:02 PM	#3
Mnemosyne Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Feb 2009 Location: Between the past and the future Posts: 1,166	Rikae was still not sure what to make of having a room that looked almost exactly like her own. Even creepier was the fact that, when going through the large dresser up against the wall, she found clothing not only to her style and taste, but that also fit her perfectly. The dinner bell sounded. Checking her outfit in the mirror above her dresser one last time, she stepped out of the room and into the hallway of the Cottage of Lost Play. At almost the same time the door next to hers opened, and a young man, about university age, stepped out. Even though he was in a suit, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he would have done very well on the high seas around Umbar. The hoop in his ear probably didn’t help. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Rikae.” “Rikae? Wonderful! I’m Shasta.” Shasta took a look at his appearance. “Hey—we match!” It was true, to an extent: the grey in his suit matched her silver skirt, and they were both wearing turquoise—though hers was bright and shiny and his was more of a teal. Rikae smiled. “Shall we head down together?” * * * The dining room looked so grand that Lalaith almost expected there to be someone announcing her name as she swept down the staircase. It was unnecessarily long, and hugged the walls of the oval-shaped room as it descended from one side to the other. White marble laced with black and gold paved the floor, and the long, black table already had a few occupants. When she reached the table she saw that placecards had been set forth, all with Downers’ names written on them. Only the head of the table was left unknown. There were fourteen chairs. Looking around her, she saw some familiar faces as well as a few unknowns. Fea had changed into a silky black halter dress that looked as if it should have been lounging over a roulette table, and Boro had opted out of the classic suit in favor of a black sweater vest. There was also a blondish man in a white dinner jacket, and a young woman in a dusky rose dress. Upon introducing herself she found that they were Inziladun and Nessa Telrunya. And turning around to the top of the stairway she saw Shasta and Rikae descending. Lalaith shrugged out of her fur stole and sat down at her place. One by one the Downers made their way to the dining room, and awaited. * * * Ten minutes passed, and servers came out from side doors to begin pouring water and wine. The seat at the head of the table was unoccupied. Unsure of what to do, people began to talk about their various experiences on the way over, and about the unsettling nature of this place. Nerwen began pontificating on the mysterious nature of the scar on her chest that was somewhat hidden by the pendant she wore. Eönwë, for some reason, had to explain to autume98 that his name was not actually “Steve.” More time passed. Soup was served, then the main course. Given the creepy way these people seemed to know everything about them, Fea was not terribly surprised at this juncture that she was served fish rather than the beef filet everyone else was given. But if anyone cared about how long the steaks were grilled, the cook had not. By the time everyone was finished their plates were swirled with red juices. There was still no sign of their host. An awkward silence had descended by the time the dessert course was finished. No one was willing to get up. The waiters cleared away the goblets that had held their raspberry sorbet. A gong sounded. At the top of the stairs appeared a lady in black. Slowly she descended them, and then smoothly moved to take her place at the head of the table. She pulled off her hat to reveal dark brown hair tightly pulled into a bun, and eyes that burned with a darker fire. Red-gloved fingers rested on an untouched plate. “I’m sure,” she said, “you’re wondering why you’ve all been called here.” Silence. “There are a number of reasons. First of all, I’ve spent a lot of time and effort into this place and I thought it should be seen by those with the capacity to appreciate it. “Second, I have a… quest, if you will—to perform. “And third, I find that I like a little conflict in life. An interesting means to perform my quest. And, as such—tonight some of you will find yourselves in a very interesting situation. “Tomorrow, all of you will. This entire house will be locked until you complete your task, whichever side wins.” “Whichever side wins?” said Pitchwife. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Three of you will find yourselves filled with an insatiable bloodlust. You may recall the island Sauron ruled in the First Age, filled with, I believe, werewolves? The food you’ve just eaten contains a spell to make you one of them. Quite simple really.” “But… this is scientifically impossible!” said McCaber. “All of this is!” “You will find,” said the lady in black, “that many things that are scientifically impossible exist here. “As I said, three of you will find yourselves becoming werewolves. You cannot survive the night without killing someone; it’s a simple fact of your nature. “One of you will find yourself having unusually vivid dreams. If you so choose, you can focus them on one person and learn if he or she is one of the werewolves that will be killing you.” “Killing?” said Nessa. “Of course. It is everybody else’s role to kill the werewolves during the day, before they kill you. Whoever survives can escape the cottage alive.” “This is sick!” said autume. “I know; isn’t it lovely?” said the lady in black. “If you make the deaths entertaining enough, I may let some of you go free early. Oh, and if you don't kill anyone during the day, you all die. Have a pleasant night.” “She’s joking, right?” said Eönwë. IT IS NOW NIGHT ONE. __________________ Got corsets? Last edited by Mnemosyne; 07-20-2009 at 04:27 PM.