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

Threats from all sides. ⟪ She is quiet, calm, and there is no rush to the way she speaks, nor is there urgency to her questions. Death is patient, but she has been like this for years and years now. ⟫ The Prince who was Promised – the King I was with ⟪ not served ⟫ has to defeat an evil greater than any other, and it is rallying its armies even as we speak.

⟪ A dry sound, it could be a laugh if she wasn't so frustrated with it. ⟫ And a slew of false kings who all claim the right to the same throne, as if a pile of iron is any use against an army of the undead. So many battles at once, I can't even tell you which one killed me in the end –– though it can't be the evil I spoke of, for then I would have been forced to join him.

[Listening to her talk about her King- it hits way too close to home. And the situation is so, so similar. The walking menace that doesn't seem to die no matter how much you fight it, King that has to make all darkness dissipate and cure the World of the daemon's plague.

He seriously feels for her. It probably won't mean much, but he understands, at least partly, from where she's coming.]

I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm sure your King appreciates everything you did for him. [If he was a real King.]

⟪ What he says strikes deep – in some ways, perhaps only now does it occur to her how final their last goodbye had been. This was their arrangement: he is her champion, she is his priestess. They each do their duty, and it is their shared battle against the great other which counts. Nothing else matters, not that she had shared his tent at war, not that he had shared her bed on Castle Black. Nighttimes walks on the Wall, no guards present. Superfluous luxuries, the lots of them. She stares into the fire and wonders why she'd failed to see him in the flames in life. ⟫

Many mislike him, but he is a just man. He does not break with duty. ⟪ She wonders when he'll hear of her death, if he'll mourn her, though the notion is silly – she is a priestess, she is not to be mourned. He'd mourned the Onion Knight, though, but that had been a subtle thing – no one would take much note, but he'd be ashamed of it all the same. Better for him if he doesn't. Better for Selyse, his wife, too. ⟫ He knows which victories I have won him.

And yours?

[Ignis was never asked to put Noctis into words before because, well, everyone knew Noctis. And Noct disliked that part about himself. Not the royal part, he's doing his duty just well. But the staying in the back, getting the little treats that life offers before he has to ascend the throne- thwarted by reporters and council members. And now that shit had hit the fan- Ignis is glad that he enabled him as much as he did.]

He is young. Too young to be a King. [Ignis will admit to that.] Too little experience about anything to make a decision that is not influenced by emotions.

However, he's, well, stubborn. Determined. Holds, according to some, maybe too much compassion. Fights battles that come his way [even if he'd rather nap] and cares more than he lets on. Perhaps I'm being too biased, since I've known him for so long, and perhaps he's not perfect and ideal in some people's eyes- but I'd never bow to anyone else.

I do not bow to the King – I am a priestess first. ⟪ It's an important distinction, to her, even though she hears the whispers, knows the rumours, and is more than aware that Stannis prefers to think of her as an advisor, rather than a member of some clergy. ⟫ And he is stubborn too, and driven. ⟪ No need to speak of compassion, Stannis is notoriously without mercy if it stands in the way of justice. ⟫ But I trust him, and I trusted none other than God before.

⟪ Mind, she still got murdered. ⟫

[Ignis nods, understanding (or, at least trying to- he's never seen someone serve a King before but not bow...).]

Our roles are different- I was trained to be a retainer and protector. Royal advisor when Prince ascends the throne. [Something he, regrettably, won't be witnessing. He's seen Noctis work hard for it, and Ignis too, pushed forward to see that that day comes.]

So my loyalty lays fully with him, whether the life or the afterlife. [He's that stubborn and loyal.]

I am his advisor, too. ⟪ A risky balance to strike, that, and one that has earned her more than one rumour, and... most of them true. ⟫ Shall we say it has become... more intertwined than intended.

⟪ Still, what he says strikes a chord with her, and deeply. Stannis has Davos, but Davos is off solving troubles elsewhere. ⟫ The things I would give to know he had one like you by his side now. May I ask your name?

I see... [The slight implication is more than enough for him to catch on and understand what she means. But he doesn't inquire further about it; coming from himself, he wouldn't want new people he meets to pry. Should she decides to talk about it, however, he won't stop her.]

My apologies, [where are your manners, "royal advisor",] I'm Ignis. Ignis Scientia.

⟪ In many ways, it is easier here than it was in Westeros. In many ways, it is worse here than it was in Westeros. In Westeros, at least, she felt as though she had a level of control over the situation. ⟫

Ignis. From ignite? ⟪ She'll go on to answer her own question, really. ⟫ It is a good name. I am called Melisandre. Of Asshai-by-the-Shadow.

[He would agree with her on that. For all the freedom that he has now in death, without any straight obligations, it still feels like he's trapped. And the threat that people mentioned is not helping at all.]

Yes, I would suspect so. [He's not sure why his parents named him that way, but he doesn't mind.]

Pleased to meet you, Melisandre.

INTRO LOG: JULY

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