How many goodly creatures are there here! :: GAME OPENER

[synergismus]

Welcome to Baedal.

These are the first words newcomers hear when the door opens and they are invited into their new world. Some fuss, some fight, some need time before they have the courage to step outside. Others, shell-shocked or jaded, go quietly along with the proceedings.

They are given brief instructions; a repeat of what's described in the pamphlet and a door key.

Please stay in your room. There will be dinner soon.

It's been almost a day for some. For others, only an hour's wait. The latest newcomer is lead straight from the arrival room to the dining hall where candles and lanterns have been set out to compensate for failing electricity. (Those who have been here longer explain about rolling blackouts.) The food, however, is warm, varied and plentiful. Seating is open, and less conventional chair are available to those who need them.

There are many strange faces around the table, the majority of these recent arrivals. The proprietor of the Valhalla Inn is here, as is some of her staff. The Sheriff of Mog Hill is introduced, his function detailed. The reason for the dinner is explained:

It's a celebration. A new cohort has finally been officiated; CeidaryBlue523. Your cohort. Please. Introduce yourself. Mingle. Get to know your fellows, they will be your brothers and sisters for as long as you live in this city.


((OOC post for discussion and coordination.))

Comments

[gramarye]

"Troy--" Another pause. "Greek Troy?" What. Okay, no, he should have expected this kind of weirdness, and all things told it wasn't as strange as it could be... (she wasn't blue!) "What year are you from?" he asked, sounding more interested than weirded out, because there was a part of him (a large part of him, actually) that was a gigantic nerd and actually really fascinated by the idea of speaking to people potentially from the past.

He ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "I lived in that general area before I came here," he explained. "A little to the south, in a city called Izmir. The country's called Turkey now, or, well, the now that I come from."

[cassie_of_troy]

She bristled slightly. "Troy was not a Greek city-state." Cassandra's anger was fleeting, however. She was far too used to being treated as a relic of this so-called 'Greek mythology.' To be fair, she had ended her life in Greece, but that wasn't the point. The Greeks had destroyed her world long before they took her life and she didn't care to be associated with them. But that was just the way history would remember her and who was she to argue with history?

"We do not keep track of the years the way most from earth do," she sighed. "Presumably, I am from close to three thousand years before your time. You caught me off guard. I did not expect to hear that Egypt had survived that far into the future." It seemed so unfair. Troy was a glorious as Egypt, as beautiful, as rich, as famous. Why did it get to survive? The gods, she supposed.

"Perhaps we are distantly related," she mused. "The survivors of Troy cover the earth like stars cover the sky. I can imagine many of them went west." It was a nice thought, if not somewhat superficial.