The Hotel is visually stunning. Its architecture is intricate, and it looks rather like a brick-and-mortar parthenon. A magnificent, castle-like thing that seems like it would look more at home in the old plantations of the south, or on the grounds of an English noble estate, rather than on the foggy, somewhat chilly beaches of... Wherever this was.
You received the invitation to a small town in Maine called Maushire a while ago. The paper was bizarrely fancy, and, for some reason, completely un-creaseable. Heavy, too. The shiny, stamped-in print might have been in real gold... But that was beside the point. Things got really weird when you actually arrived in Maushire. The locals were all very friendly and quiet, and the town was all very old. It looked like it hadn't been remodeled or restored since the 50s. The shiny new limousine that somehow found you (and all the other guests, it seemed) was very out of place... You can't exactly tell how you got here either, the windows were stained so dark that it was impossible to see.
From the snapping of branches, rumble of gravel roads, and the occassional animal noise, you could only assume that you had come through a forest. It made sense, there was a forest behind the building some distance away... But the trip just felt too short to have travelled through the massive behemoth of a woods, or across the few acres of meadow where the hotel was...
But oh well, perhaps you were just tired from all the travel. You were here now, with a (moderately) beautiful beach view, a beautiful, glowing building that totally isn't creepy at all. The limosine had pulled up on a roundabout in an illustrious courtyard, there was a fountain in the middle of it, and a glistening marble statue with its podium surrounded by padded, marble benches, for each of the cardinal directions. (The Hotel, and the brick path leading up to it, was perfectly to the northeast.)
A slight warming breeze exits the building as two lobby boys open the door. Syrupy jazz can be heard on the inside as other (NPC) guests head out of the limousine and hurry toward the hotel. Seems welcoming enough, you can't exactly plan the weather around here.
You received the invitation to a small town in Maine called Maushire a while ago. The paper was bizarrely fancy, and, for some reason, completely un-creaseable. Heavy, too. The shiny, stamped-in print might have been in real gold... But that was beside the point. Things got really weird when you actually arrived in Maushire. The locals were all very friendly and quiet, and the town was all very old. It looked like it hadn't been remodeled or restored since the 50s. The shiny new limousine that somehow found you (and all the other guests, it seemed) was very out of place... You can't exactly tell how you got here either, the windows were stained so dark that it was impossible to see.
From the snapping of branches, rumble of gravel roads, and the occassional animal noise, you could only assume that you had come through a forest. It made sense, there was a forest behind the building some distance away... But the trip just felt too short to have travelled through the massive behemoth of a woods, or across the few acres of meadow where the hotel was...
But oh well, perhaps you were just tired from all the travel. You were here now, with a (moderately) beautiful beach view, a beautiful, glowing building that totally isn't creepy at all. The limosine had pulled up on a roundabout in an illustrious courtyard, there was a fountain in the middle of it, and a glistening marble statue with its podium surrounded by padded, marble benches, for each of the cardinal directions. (The Hotel, and the brick path leading up to it, was perfectly to the northeast.)
A slight warming breeze exits the building as two lobby boys open the door. Syrupy jazz can be heard on the inside as other (NPC) guests head out of the limousine and hurry toward the hotel. Seems welcoming enough, you can't exactly plan the weather around here.
