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grimmoired2018-06-24 09:27 am
themodsgrimm) wrote in grimmoired2018-06-24 09:27 am
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END OF CHAPTER 2 ; EXECUTION
END OF CHAPTER 2 - WEEK 2 It's execution day, naughty murder children. Breakfast is served in the dining hall, all the better to fortify you for what is to come. Wherever you might wander in the castle, you will find yourself drawn to the foyer when the clock strikes not twelve, but ten. In the distance, there is the sound of clanking armor. Sandalphon appears, flanked on either side by suits of armor, escorting him to his punishment. His expression is one of grim acceptance, and he takes each step toward the door without faltering. A moment later, the Dragon appears on the foyer's staircase. Her hand trails down the banister as she descends, and she takes her place at the head of the group, standing in front of what appears to be a wall. "Come," she says. "The execution awaits." You blink, and then it's there — a door leading to the outside. The Dragon steps through it. You have no choice but to follow.  Welcome to your third execution post! Please see here for the results of yesterday's voting. In addition, make sure you fill out your CR Chart for Chapter 2! If you have any questions, please ask on our Discord server or ping us on plurk. Please direct pings for the NPC to Dana (Discord DMs preferred, then
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(frozen comment) EXECUTION
Gone is his usual garb - in its place is the elegant attire of a prince, complete with a gold-embroidered doublet and a crown perched on his head. Or - perhaps perched is not quite the wright word. It's wedged very tightly on his head, digging into his scalp to the point that droplets of crimson liquid (ink, though it looks very much like blood) tracks down his face.
At the center of the clearing is a glass coffin. The group is made to fan out around it in a semicircle, watching as he approaches it; when he comes to the coffin's side, he stares down into the glass.
The face of Lucifer stares back up at him, though none but him can see it clearly.
One of the suits of armor shifts the top of the coffin open so that he can lean down, lips poised to brush against the lips of the figure in the coffin. But before they can touch, he flickers out of view, and the lid of the coffin slams shut. The Narrators watching will see Sandalphon's hands beat against the glass from the inside, frantic, desperate. It does not open, and the suits of armor standing guard step away.
But it isn't over yet. The Narrators hear the sound of seven sets of approaching footsteps, and a whistled rendition of a mourning song. From deep within the woods, a line of dwarfs appear, holding pickaxes. They each have a wild, bloothirsty glint in their eyes, and their beards are matted with blood and gore. They surround the glass coffin which Sandalphon struggles to escape from, and they raise their pickaxes in unison.
Somehow, the weapons pass right through the glass without shattering it. There is a cry from inside and a spray of crimson ink against the glass as the dwarfs swing mercilessly, again and again and again. The points of their pickaxes come away stained with ink, fabric, and flesh. They do not stop. Not for at least ten more swings after the figure in the coffin goes silent, not until crimson ink begins to seep out of the corners of the coffin, staining the glass.
Finally - when the glass has been coated so thoroughly with ink that it is impossible to see who is inside - they stop. Their axes come to rest on their shoulders, and they march back into the woods single file, whistling a much more jaunty tune than before.
Silence falls over the group, and you can't help but wonder:
The story of Sandalphon has come to an end ... or has it?