logsinthenight | INTRO LOG: JULY

characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, as well as the rest of town.
date/time: july 1-3.
content: beacon's newest batch of residents arrives on the ferry. winters, will, and rastus introduce themselves and explain the situation.
warnings: n/a.

welcome to beacon.

It's dim, and the room won't stop swaying, gently rocking you back and forth. A loud sound startles you fully awake, a deep, moaning call: a foghorn. As your eyes adjust, you note faint red light streaking through the room from a tiny, round window.

You've found yourself in a private room, lying on a bed. The last things you remember are the events that led up to your death. Beside you is a folded tablet and a lantern that glows steadily with a healthy flame.

You're on a ship. And that ship is docking.

Making your way to the deck, and eventually the pier, you find only moonlight to greet you, and a dark forest beyond. There are other people here, each with their own unique lantern, and many of them look just as lost as you are. On the ferry you've just disembarked from, the speaker system begins to play a song.

In the distance, across the waters of the lake, you can see the tall silhouette of a lighthouse, its red light slowly turning.

•••
Winters and Will are waiting for you on the beach. Winters flags you down from where he's standing atop a large rock, surveying the gathering crowd. Will stands next to him, though he's monkeying with his tablet and looks rather bored. He barely looks up as Winters speaks:

"First thing's first: I'm sorry you're here. There's no easy way to break this news, so let's just get it over with, hm? You're dead. Or, ah, you've died. Call this the afterlife if you want, or don't if that ain't your thing, but point is, you're here 'cause you died. Those are the facts.

This world's dead, too. You've noticed by now it's pretty dark, yeah? That's 'cause there's no life here, not anymore. And that lantern you've got? That's your life, so to speak. The flame goes out, you die, and vice versa. Keep it close. Should be easy enough to remember on account of how the sun don't rise. You'll need something to see by.

This place is called Beacon, and that's Lake Red Jacket. Town's 'bout a mile down the road, and we've got a bonfire there, but that's the only other light you'll see in this place. Save for the moon and all, though the sky won't do you much good out in the woods. I'll let Rastus explain the bonfire to y'all.

Ah, right. I'm Ben Winters—Winters'll do—and this here's Will Ingr— What? For christ's sake, Dr. Will Ingram. Likes to think he's the brains of the operation, as you can see. If you've got questions about these tablets, he's your guy. Rastus tends to the fire, and you'll find him in town. He's married to his job in a way. And you may never've seen a person like him back wherever you came from, but don't make a big fuss over it. He's a nice fellow. Mind your manners.

The three of us are leftovers from past resets. We came here on that ferry just like you, but it's just us left now. 'Sides the Lighthouse Keeper, but it'll be a bit before you get to meet her. She's got control over the town, see, and if she ain't satisfied with a group's performance, they get the axe. Town gets reset. If she pulls a reset on you folks, a couple of you might end up like me and Will here, giving this speech to the next crop."

The red beam of the lighthouse pulses over the group, over the trees. Winters glances up to watch it swing out over the bay.

"But don't hold it against her. Ain't her fault we're in this mess, and we've all got a job to do, including you.

For now, concentrate on accepting your lot, yeah? We're here to answer your questions, but we ain't gonna tell you all there is to know just yet. Some things are best learned on your own, and some of it we just don't want to saddle you with yet. There's a limit to how long we can stay here safely, that's true, but thing is, we do got time. Time enough to play this smart. Do better than the folks before us did. Settle in, make peace, explore a bit if you're up for it. Use these first couple weeks to come to grips. You ain't gonna be any good to the town if you don't sort yourself out before worrying about what comes next.

So listen up: You're dead. You died. Whatever your old life was, it's done now. None of us can go back, so all we've got is forward. Welcome to Beacon. Could be worse, yeah?"

ooc.

Hey there, wonderful players, and welcome to In the Night! For this intro log, all three NPCs will be available for chatting with, whether your character wants to make casual conversation or ask questions about all this. The headers on each NPC toplevel are there for easy reference as to what each of them are responsible for, but you're welcome to go to any NPC for whatever reason. You're welcome to assume your character has overheard any NPC conversation to learn more about the game. After the NPC threads have died down, we'll compile the info learned ICly and add it to the game history page. If your character would contribute something specific to the game history records, let us know!

DELIVERIES

The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:

The monthly store restock

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You are welcome.

⟪ It is the least she can do, in some small way, to offer comfort in sweets. She remembers being a girl, just bought by the Temple, brought into the kitchens to work as a servant. Those who had worked in the kitchen for a long while handed sweet bread to the new arrivals, and it had helped fight the horrors. A little. ⟫

I do not like the darkness much either. The night is dark and full of terrors. ⟪ She stands, and offers a hand to the girl, pointing out something like a bit of sad-looking bench within sight of the fire, but not right by it. Of course an unbeliever wouldn't understand the draw of the flame, not when death has failed in freeing her. She can't blame her for it. Anyway, if Mary seems fine with it, she will sit with her there instead. ⟫

It makes sense to be afraid of it. ⟪ She says it comforting, though it's hard to tell if she means the darkness – or, considering Mary's recent history, the fire. ⟫ But there are good things here. Things of light. And those always triumph over the darkness in the end.

[Mary accepts Melisandre's hand without issue or complaint and follows her to the bench. Even sitting, she seems to want to hold on.]

Do you think that the sun will come out from where it's been chased away, too?

⟪ Melisandre's hand is feverishly warm, perhaps not unpleasant to the touch, but certainly something other than purely, averagely human. At any rate, she won't draw back if Mary doesn't –– it has been many, many decades since she was last in charge of arrivals at the Temple, but she knows how they were. What they felt, feared. ⟫

Not today, and not tomorrow. ⟪ A pause, then she lifts her lantern, making the shadows dance. ⟫ See the shadows? They are dark, too, no? But they can't exist without the light. It might take a while, longer than we will like, perhaps, but we'll see the sun again. It's what we say in my world: after the Long Night, there will be a new dawn.

⟪ If Azor Ahai is victorious. But there's no room for ifs right now, not for Melisandre. ⟫

A new dawn...

[It sounds so pretty. It sounds warm, just like her hand. Mary wonders if it feels nice to feel that way. Is it comforting? It's like Melisandre has the sun inside of her.]

I've never seen the sun before, you know, but I dream about it...I dream about the sunshine all the time!

Never?

⟪ What hole did they keep this child in? She remembers being transported in darkness, like cattle, when she was just about this age, but she had half-hoped these things were from her world only. ⟫

I lived without the sun for many years. ⟪ Asshai, this is, the city of permanent shadow. ⟫ So many I thought I may never see it again, but I did. This won't be forever, either. ⟪ A normal person would perhaps try to strike a less melancholic chord, but this is Melisandre trying to interact with a child, and so... it is what is. ⟫ In the meantime, we will have to make do with substitutions, won't we?

[Melancholy or not, it seems to have a positive effect on the girl, who starts to smile. And that smile becomes brighter and brighter, it's own lightless sun.]

No matter how long you stay in the dark...someday, you'll find the sun again! Okay...I can be patient. I'll find other ways to keep the dark away!

⟪ It's... strangely warming, that girl's smile, and she wonders what it says of her that the sight of it almost has her feel guilty. Almost. It is not her job to save children, it is her task to guide Stannis Baratheon in his battle against the Other. ⟫

Can you think of some ways? What... do you enjoy to do? ⟪ Is that an awkward question? God, how long has it been since she last spoke to a child, a child whom she did not have to view as a tool, a pawn in a larger game?

How long, exactly, had she lived in Asshai? ⟫

I like to read, and I like to draw!

[They're her favorite!]

I don't know what else I like...but as long as I'm doing it with friends, it will make me very happy.

You are so young, and you already know your letters? You must be very clever.

⟪ God knows far from everyone in her world can read or write. ⟫

I'm still practicing my handwriting...but I have had a lot of time to learn. My father left me many books before he went away.

[And unlike her older sisters, she had an actual interest in them.]

Calligraphy did not come easy to me, either, but I mastered it all the same.

⟪ So there is hope, is what she is saying. ⟫

Calligraphy?

[That sounds beautiful! Mary can't help but feel amazed.]

Do you think maybe you could help me practice? Please, just when you aren't busy!

Of course.

⟪ She'll have to make sure to offer something for the girl. Food, of sorts. She's unused to needing that. ⟫

I will see about pens or quills, and you may visit me in the church whenever you please.

Hooray!

[She's absolutely over the moon. Her new teacher, Melisandre. What could possibly go wrong?]

Is that where you've decided to stay?

⟪ Between Rafe setting her loose on the world with emojis and Melisandre teaching her, the game might as well reset already. ⟫

I have. It's a holy place, you see. ⟪ She hums wistfully. ⟫ When the moon shines bright, it'll be quite pretty, I think. The windows are made of stained glass, with pictures on them.

That sounds so nice...

[She can just imagine it! Well, a version of it, probably. It likely involves more crayons.]

I want to visit it all the time!

INTRO LOG: JULY

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