[ Reality twangs uncomfortably in the Ring around you, and next thing you know, you're standing with your teammates beneath an apple tree. No one else is anywhere to be seen.
Faith's voice sounds. ]
You believe in so many--
[ The crackling of paper, the turning of pages. ]
--so many things. Tell me, which of these would you pick to believe in? To save you and fulfill you.
[ Fourteen scrolls materialize around you, with words on them. Approach, and the words will echo in your head: ]
"Our team." "Ourselves and our ability to persist in being as such, as long as we live and breathe; our own reality." "Kindness." "Family, our own blood." "Bravery, determination, and adventure." "The little things in life." "Change and growth." "Being at the top." "Happy endings." "Justice." "Inner strength." "Friends and friendship." "Delicious pie." "Our own personal truths."
[ At the foot of the apple tree, a silver box appears. It can fit exactly three scrolls. ]
Sup! Uh. "Ourselves and our ability to persist in being as such, as long as we live and breathe; our own reality," "bravery, determination, and adventure," aaand [whew okay he has to take a breath here THIS IS ALL SUCH A MOUTHFUL] "friends and friendship."
[ The box snaps shut. In the distance, there's a sound like faint thunder or the turning of pages--funny, aren't those very different sounds? For now, nothing else happens. ]
[ Reality warps once more, and you're falling through warm rain to the distant sound of weeping.
You land on the bottom of a huge, open-topped glass case that towers over you. Water sloshes around the glass, slowly but surely rising. Beyond the waters, you can see the blurry outlines of several other teams trapped in glass like you.
There is nothing here except the silver box from the first round. The scrolls are still inside it, but each of them is now wrapped around a handful of small glittering tokens--some silver, some gold.
Sorrowful's voice sounds once more. ]
Each of you shall take a token from the box and suffer the punishment bound to it. Refuse to do so, and your shelter will shatter and you will drown immediately. Take them, and you may survive long enough to be rescued. If anyone takes pity on you!
[ In the distance, somewhere, there is still the sound of weeping. ]
[ All characters present should comment with what token they're taking--silver or gold, and what scroll it was wrapped in. Silver tokens inflict physical punishments and gold tokens inflict psychological ones. This is not IC knowledge. ]
Sorrowful's voice echoes in your head. "Then suffer at the top."
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge axe embeds itself in your skull. Blinding pain sears through your head. You live, but nothing will stop the excruciating agony, nor the blood pouring from your terrible wound.
Sorrowful's voice echoes in your head. "You should learn that your friends mean you harm."
Before you can dwell on those words, something changes. All of a sudden, no matter what words are spoken to you, all you'll hear is vitriol, abuse, and scorn. Even the kindest thing said will turn in your mind into insults and ridicule. Statements that have nothing to do with you become vindictive mockery. All of it digs into your heart.
Sorrowful's voice echoes in your head. "If you are so truly alive, then keep trying to draw breath!"
Your throat suddenly constricts. No matter what you do, you cannot get nearly enough air. Your throat burns in protest and blood vessels in your lungs explode; you cough to draw up the blood, using up still more precious air. But despite all your agony, you neither die nor pass out. Life and pain continue to plague you.
[ The weeping in the distance grows louder and louder as you attend to your terrible tasks, until finally, the voice of Handless Faith reaches you again. ]
Stop! I remember--
I remember--
I have learned of hope.
[ The voice of Spider Eagle of Sterling reaches you from somewhere far away. ]
Hope is—not giving up, that things will get better even when everything is at its worst.
[ Tentatively and yet stubbornly, your pain eases and your wounds knit themselves back together. ]
ROUND ONE
Faith's voice sounds. ]
You believe in so many--
[ The crackling of paper, the turning of pages. ]
--so many things. Tell me, which of these would you pick to believe in? To save you and fulfill you.
[ Fourteen scrolls materialize around you, with words on them. Approach, and the words will echo in your head: ]
"Our team." "Ourselves and our ability to persist in being as such, as long as we live and breathe; our own reality." "Kindness." "Family, our own blood." "Bravery, determination, and adventure." "The little things in life." "Change and growth." "Being at the top." "Happy endings." "Justice." "Inner strength." "Friends and friendship." "Delicious pie." "Our own personal truths."
[ At the foot of the apple tree, a silver box appears. It can fit exactly three scrolls. ]
DISCUSS
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ROUND TWO
[ Reality stutters around you. ]
you believe so much
[ Crack. A break runs down the center of the world before you. ]
What have I believed in?
I am...not what the Story made me.
I am not virtuous. All I have is pain.
I can be bad.
[ Reality dissolves, and then you're back in the Ring... ]
Round Three
You land on the bottom of a huge, open-topped glass case that towers over you. Water sloshes around the glass, slowly but surely rising. Beyond the waters, you can see the blurry outlines of several other teams trapped in glass like you.
There is nothing here except the silver box from the first round. The scrolls are still inside it, but each of them is now wrapped around a handful of small glittering tokens--some silver, some gold.
Sorrowful's voice sounds once more. ]
Each of you shall take a token from the box and suffer the punishment bound to it. Refuse to do so, and your shelter will shatter and you will drown immediately. Take them, and you may survive long enough to be rescued. If anyone takes pity on you!
[ In the distance, somewhere, there is still the sound of weeping. ]
Discuss
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--if we drown immediately- how literally do you think that is?
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What should we do?
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Submit
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Suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge axe embeds itself in your skull. Blinding pain sears through your head. You live, but nothing will stop the excruciating agony, nor the blood pouring from your terrible wound.
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Before you can dwell on those words, something changes. All of a sudden, no matter what words are spoken to you, all you'll hear is vitriol, abuse, and scorn. Even the kindest thing said will turn in your mind into insults and ridicule. Statements that have nothing to do with you become vindictive mockery. All of it digs into your heart.
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Your throat suddenly constricts. No matter what you do, you cannot get nearly enough air. Your throat burns in protest and blood vessels in your lungs explode; you cough to draw up the blood, using up still more precious air. But despite all your agony, you neither die nor pass out. Life and pain continue to plague you.
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IN THE END . . .
Stop! I remember--
I have learned of hope.
[ The voice of Spider Eagle of Sterling reaches you from somewhere far away. ]
Hope is—not giving up, that things will get better even when everything is at its worst.
[ Tentatively and yet stubbornly, your pain eases and your wounds knit themselves back together. ]
[ Your surroundings shimmer and fade, returning you to the Ring... ]