kapuchu

All We Do for Gold

Thank you for the head's up!

All We Do for Gold

Good to hear!

All We Do for Gold

That second post came out faster than I thought it would. Oh well, here it is! Enjoy Astrid the not-all-too-brave!

All We Do for Gold

An explosion of sound ripped Astrid violently from her sleep, giving not a care for her rest and instead thrusting her into half-awake panic before her eyes had properly opened. For a moment, the only sound in her room was her own breathing and her thundering heartbeat. Wide eyes took in her surroundings with an outer calm that did not match the state of her mind, taking stock of the room as the memories of yesterday returned to her. The chair she had put under the doorknob still remained, and nothing was different from yesterday evening. She breathed a rattling sigh of relief and sank back onto her bed, letting go of the axe she had grabbed on instinct alone.

She had arrived at Fortune’s End, and the gunshot that woke her was the man keeping time. She had been led to the ‘saloon’ the old man called it. Then the wood-man, the corpse-mayor in the chair outside. It had been real, after all, as much as these living nightmare people could be considered real she supposed. Her rational side told her that they hadn’t attempted anything to her during the previous day, nor had anyone or anything tampered with her room or tried to come into her room it seemed like. Small mercies, but ones she would gladly embrace for the moment. There were plenty of things she would have to get used to, if she were to get the gold so that she and her family could survive the struggles of recent times. And to get that gold, she would have to get up and start the day.

Her mind set, she set about getting dressed and rolling her braid up into its customary bun, held in place by her customary iron nails. That done, she donned her hat, put the leather cover back on her axe and sheathed it in her belt. She was about to remove the chair from the door when an errant piece of sunlight snuck through one of the blinds she had set up and struck her square in the face. Just the light alone immediately reminded her of the weather being much hotter than she was used to, and it was unlikely that it would get much better. She contemplated the sleeves on her shirt for a moment before coming to a decision she hoped she would not regret. Grabbing hold at the shoulder with her teeth, and holding the sleeve itself with her free hand, she tore them off unceremoniously while privately apologising to her mother for ruining her clothes.

Her clothing situation sorted out, Astrid ducked out of her room as quietly as she could, letting the door close with a soft click behind her. The hallway didn’t comment on her caution, though she might have expected it to, in this place. The doors, however, were a somewhat different story. Across the hall and not far from her, she saw the unmistakable writing on one of the doors to another room, the name ‘Vergil’ spelled out in what looked too much like blood for her liking. That name had not been there the day before, nor had—she flicked her gaze down the hallway—any of the other names, on the other doors. Had other occupants arrived after her? Had they done this themselves? It would be macabre if they had, but if not them, then—another thought came to her, and she chanced a glance over her own shoulder.

Astrid stared at the writing on her door, her name clearly marked the room she had been assigned to stay in. She didn't recall giving her name to anyone, in fact the old man she met at the entrance to Fortune Found had not even let her introduce herself. Then how come her name had been spelt out on her door, in what looked far too much like almost-liquid blood?

Was there some force in the town that knew her? The thought was unsettling, but it led to an even more unnerving thought that skittered its way across her brain. When she had arrived at Fortune’s End she had done so much faster than she had expected. Her bag had been packed for a several month long journey, but seemingly out of nowhere she found herself at the crack in the ground and then suddenly, she was there. It was as if the town itself had moved to meet her, or moved her to meet it. In either case it meant it somehow knew she was looking for it. The thoughts flowed into each other rather naturally, and though there was no evidence to tie them together it all fit too perfectly to not at least hold a grain of truth. If the town knew she was looking for it, knowing her name would be trivial in comparison.

She choked down her own desire to vocalise the very insistent discomfort that wormed its way into her thoughts. Much as she would have preferred to just walk away or stay in the room, she was here now and there was very little she could do about it. She had a goal, a purpose, and if she wanted any chance at all to get that gold, she would need to get out of this hallway first, and then figure out what to do. She just hoped there were more humans here in the centre city.

With little in the way of other options she made her way down the hallway, pointedly keeping her eyes forward and away from the other doors. The stairs groaned slightly under her as she finally found her way downstairs, and ducking under the doorway and stepping into the common room proper, she found people! Three of them!

A look of nearly exuberant joy lit up her face as three ordinary, normal human people came into view, prompting a very hearty, “Góðan morgunn!” from her. Belatedly she realised that they likely did not know her mother tongue, making her clear her throat and make a second attempt, this one a little more subdued.

“Good morning,” she said in a heavy accent. “Are you also ta- tr—Mamma, hvað er orðið?—ah! Are you also travelers?”

All We Do for Gold

@Kidgoat
Sounds awesome! I had hoped to properly introduce Astrid when everone was downstairs, so I'll be posting a bit after you then.

As for the Eyes and Watcher, I think we should perhaps treat this as Clue #1 towards something. We've hardly begun, so even if I were good at detective work, I'd doubt this alone would give answers.

All We Do for Gold

Hey @Theyra, @Kidgoat.

You two got any thoughts about this... "Watcher" thing? I know this is supposed to be a mystery game, but I specifically made a non-detective character because I am not good at deducing or inducing myself. Perhaps the most noteworthy thing I see is the sort of... vaguely-hidden "big" eyes in the background.

All We Do for Gold

Hey @geminironin, how's it going?

All We Do for Gold

@Theyra
Glad to hear it! Hope everything is alright on your end.

All We Do for Gold

Come on you guys! Get your posts up :D I know you can do it!

All We Do for Gold

Astrid closed the door behind her with a soft click, and finally left out a shuddering breath and shrugged off her backpack. It made a dull thud as it fell on the floor, and were Astrid in a more stable set of mind she would have been worried the boards underneath might bend or break. As it was, the bed was the only thing on her mind.

She sat down, feeling it creak underneath her, and put her head in her hands. The dry, hot air did not give as much relief as she would like, but she breathed nonetheless.

‘Deep breath, hold it, then exhale slowly.’

She repeated the mantra a few times, focusing her mind on stemming the tide of uncertainty and panic—something she had been trying to do ever since she had witnessed the mayor. “Hvað hef ég komið mér í?”

She had been en route for perhaps six weeks by the time she reached the boundary. Off the boat in Denmark, and then a few more days south, and then that odd crack in the ground. She had expected at least an additional two months on the road, maybe a few weeks less if she could grab a lift. Money was tight enough that she did not take the train, but she had plans to maybe attempt to sneak aboard one if the chance arose. All in all, she was prepared for a very long journey, possibly up to a year, if she had to stop to work so she could earn some money.

It had surprised her quite a bit then, when she had just crossed through Aalborg, when she came upon a miniature ravine. A tiny split in the ground barely the width of her hand. It had not been the most curious thing of her travels yet. The odd flatness of the entirety of Denmark was likely that. It had not even crossed her mind that the crack might be more than met the eyes. So when she stepped over and found herself in a place completely unlike the gentle fields of the Danish countryside.

The first thing she had noticed was the heat blasting down from above. The second was the shuffling footfalls of a man who looked as cantankerous as they come. He led her into the city proper, past the outer ring of chaotic buildings and across the figurative no-man’s-land. Within the city proper was where things had taken a turn for the bizarre, and when Astrid’s panic had started to mount. The words scarcely registered to her, her brain busy with categorising how a dried husk of a corpse was able to move, let alone talk.

She followed mutely towards the saloon when the “Mayor” had gone silent, and Quill—the angry old man—had walked off towards it. She had only just ducked through the door when the breath was stolen from her lungs as the cabinets behind the counter started talking. It took a full count of ten before she realised it wasn’t the cabinets at all, but the remnants of what could only be assumed to have once been a person, now fused to the wood in a way she was certain would give her nightmares. She had realised that it spoke to her about a sentence into its introduction of the place, and though she listened it was difficult to force herself to move. When it held out a key, she paused for a significant amount of time, before a gunshot rang from outside and shocked her into action.

It was with a mix of embarrassment and lingering panic that she thought back to how she had rushed past, grabbed the key, and walked upstairs as fast as her legs could carry her.

She breathed out a long, slow breath before inhaling and straightening up in the same moment. She had survived the worst of it, she hoped. This place was from out of fairy tales and folklore, told to keep naughty children in line lest they misbehave. But now she knew that, and she could hopefully prepare herself for the sight of more. The fact that the innkeeper was a horrific amalgamation of wood, flesh, and termites and the mayor could barely be considered alive, were enough to be relatively certain that she should expect more things that raised hackles around here. At least the existence of Quill, and the faces of the others she had seen in the windows in the ring-city, told her that there were humans to be found here. Normal ones. With two arms, two legs, and skin that looked fresher than a piece of one-year dry-aged meat.

With some renewed vigour she stood up and set about covering the windows. She seemed to remember either Quill or the thing-person downstairs telling her that the sun didn’t set here—a fact which she refused to think about now—and so using the blankets to cover the windows might be a good idea. It was a small mercy that the summers back home had prepared her for sleeping with the sun out.

A few minutes later Astrid lay on the bed, wondering what tomorrow would bring. If today had been any indication, more things that would raise question after question. For now, at least, she would sleep. But only after blocking the door, and propping her axe against the bed and in easy reach.