The Wretched Rite - Round Three - DSRS Darwin
02-22-2010, 01:03 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Akumu.
“It is an acknowledged fact of a causal reality that every action initiates a consequence. For the majority of actions, the magnitude of the consequence is not far removed from the magnitude of the action. Small actions maintain small consequences. However, the consequences of similar actions may compound upon one another to produce a net consequence of larger magnitude. Thus, a multitude of small actions may maintain a larger consequence. By this principle, should actions of great magnitude compound upon one another, how much greater would their consequence be?”
- The Wordsmith, Erstwhile Origins, Date Unknown.
With a careful purposefulness, Barabbas Poe closed the cover of the leather-bound book and slipped it thoughtfully into a coat pocket. Like a map, it had led him to his destination. Now that he had arrived, it was time to put it away. He stood poised on a precipice of reality, a single outcropping of substance amidst a turbulent void. Had he arrived much sooner, he would have floated calmly through a sea of emptiness. The peace of nothingness would have engulfed him in perpetual stillness, leaving him with nothing but thoughts of his foolishness.
Instead, he had arrived on time, in a place where time should not be. Though there was no wind, no gravity, no suction, Barabbas still felt forces blasting against him, sometimes pulling, sometimes repelling. Where there was no light, something sparked and glowed - the center of this storm of nothingness. He watched it from a distance, aware of its significance, but fearful of its consequence.
He was a wrinkled man with a somber face. He was bald, save for two tufts of gray hair jutting out above either ear. His eyes reflected a reluctant determination. He wore a simple suit, a black vest with matching slacks, tie, and coat. He was not bound to the formal-wear, but he preferred it. Formality was second nature to him. Filled with unspoken rules and expected duties, etiquette was something Barabbas understood, even relished in when the time was right. Of course, this was not the time.
Time was another thing he understood, an adamant rule which could be bent in the right places. Barabbas was old, and he had been old for a long while. Unlike most humans, Barabbas had not grown old, but rather he had been sentenced to it. In the very center of the back of his head, a black mark rested, branded on his scalp. From this point, thick dark lines spread out along the contours of his body. The suit covered most of them. The markings were a symbol, a remnant of a memento he had received from something long forgotten. The tattoos kept him both aged and ageless, allowed him to survive for eons, waiting and fearing terrors long past. Yet now, through time’s forgetfulness, they threatened to resurface.
The Multiverse, that domain of the Grandmasters, had been folded upon itself, ripped apart, reformed, reconstructed too many times in too similar ways. The Grand Battles, as they were called, demanded the intermingling of persons and places that would never meet by natural order. The fabric of that stronghold of realities could only bear so much before it reacted. Were it a continent, it would have cracked and fallen into the sea. Were it an ocean, it would have churned and boiled away. Were it a star, it would have collapsed into a lightless point. The Multiverse, however, was far beyond all these things. It was a container and connector, a birthplace and a graveyard, a home to nothing and everything, and so, when pressed, it chose not to dissolve or dismantle, but to create.
Barabbas doubted the Grandmasters could have predicted this occurrence. They were too absorbed in their own “omnipotence” to fathom the unintended consequences of their actions. Even those few able to look beyond their petty power struggles could not have guessed the outcome. There was no precedent, at least, none known by them.
Barabbas himself would have been taken by surprise were it not for the book in his possession. He had recovered it while searching for a different text, one whose prophecy promised relief from a fear that plagued him. His book, however, was not prophetic. It was one of four, so its author claimed, that never ventured beyond the realm of history, though it was a history the author had not been privy to. It spoke of the creation of a force that was born from the carelessness of those with too much power. Its pages provided details and discussions surrounding a catastrophe it never named, yet Barabbas could not stifle the discomfort that the story summoned.
It had been too long ago, he supposed. The details of his past prior to finding the book blurred into an unwanted memory, a feeling of unease that grew into fear and terror when dwelt on for too long. He recalled fleeing, struggling, escaping. All that remained were negative emotions that Barabbas knew would challenge his sanity should he strive to uncover their source.
Those emotions were powerful motivators. Not that Barabbas was driven by fear, were that the case he would not have traveled here, but when circumstances triggered those feelings, or memory of a feeling, Barabbas could not help but seek a connection. When he learned of the Director’s Grand Battle, that uneasiness arose. When he learned The Observer was to repeat it, that feeling compounded. As the battles multiplied, Barabbas began to note the similarities between present events and the histories found within the book.
Perhaps, he had thought, he could do something to prevent this unintended disaster. He soon realized that was not to be his role. His abilities were not those that could interfere with the whims of the Grandmasters. Their actions, intentional or otherwise, were part of a inexorable ritual. This was something else Barabbas understood, the pattern and procedure of an invocation, the rules which guided the proper recipe for a summoning. With the pieces laid out, Barabbas could see their destination. He could tell who would preform which parts of the ceremony, where the critical events would occur, and what someone must do to complete it.
But he could not stop it. Barabbas was not a rule-breaker, nor was he a rule-creator. His nature was such that he could see and understand the critical rules governing this rite, but in doing so he must follow them. There were rules, however, that were not critical, rules that could be enforced or ignored if needed. Rules which would not change the ritual, but that could change the nature of its result. Thus he found the role set out for him, not that of a saboteur, but that of an arbiter.
He had considered taking on a title change at the realization, but the “The” had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
So he stood, watching The Multiverse in the moment of conception. The Grandmasters had planted the seeds of their power through their repeated ritual. Again and again bending the cosmos to their pleasure. What it would create, was yet unknown. There was one last ritual to perform. The rules dictated it. How that rite proceeded, Barabbas knew, would determine what that entity would become. Like its fathers, it would reach out into the vastness of The Multiverse and select eight sacrifices, eight combatants, and sentence them to die in worlds far-flung.
--------------------
In the center of the tempest, The Unborn shuddered.
--------------------
Welcome to the seventh Grand Battle in Season 3 (and the last one where you don't have to submit a villain)! Looks like our eclectic group of Grandmasters has gone and knocked up The Multiverse! DAAAAAAAAAANG. Well "like father like unformed anomalous entity", The Unborn is plucking 8 contestants out of the cosmos to watch them fight to the death, and you guys get to decide what sort of characters it dredges up from the plethora of worlds available to it.
Now if you're not familiar with what this is exactly - GREAT! - We're glad to have you! Take a seat, read a bit, fill out a character sheet and see what happens! Maybe check out some Historical Sites to see just what you've stumbled upon!
Now, while you're doing that, allow me to give a summary of my own!
As I said, the Wretched Rite is a Grand Battle, a cohesive collaboration and contest between eight participants, one Grandmaster (this guy!), and whoever else manages to stick their head in there. To enter, each participant submits a character of their own design. Depending on the number of entrants there would be a brief selection process, and the Battle begins!
Each round of the battle consists of an intro post by me, and then lots of posts by the participants, each one adding to the characters, progressing the plot, and touting your writing skills. After a suitable number of posts and a suitable climactic plot point, I will solemnly select a participant whose writing, although grand, doesn't make the cut compared to the rest, and that writer will have the opportunity to type up one final post as their character dies and the remaining combatants go on to the next round.
Seven rounds, Eight contestants, One Winner.
(of course that winner then goes on to the "Season 3 All-star round" so fun! (for you not the character))
Now a couple of key points:
- When you want to make a post. Make a "RESERVE" post first (No stacking reserves). Now I completely understand that sometimes is takes a while to craft a decent post, and that life can often get in the way. A normal "RESERVE" lasts for 3 hours. If circumstances arise though, I may allow a "LONG RESERVE". A long reserve can last for several days, but I will require constant updates on what you have, what progress you've made, and when you think you can get things done. Keep in mind that if the game is going at a quick pace, I may deny a long reserve outright. (but maybe not!) Basically, if you think it's going to take more than 3 hours to submit your post - PM me and let me know.
- Be aware and accepting of what other players are writing. This means two things: avoid stepping on other author's toes by overtly derailing obvious laid out plans (unless I say it's okay), and don't complain when someone writes something that forces you to change the plans you have made (unless I say it wasn't okay). From my experience, plans and plots that change because of other people's writing are almost always better than the original plots.
- Along with the previous point, working together is completely allowed and encouraged. This is as much a collaboration as it is a contest. (and even moreso a challenge to improve your writing). However it is also as much of a contest as it is a collaboration, if you want to go lone rider into this (as most people do) go for it! Show off your stuff!
- This is a commitment. I hate to scare potential players away, but in a collaboration like this, dropping out is extremely problematic. If you don't think you can see this through to the end - don't join.
- Use - don't abuse! Other people's characters that is. Generally, try to wait for an author to use their character in 2 posts before overtly directing it. The first post is to allow the "BUHHHH? I'M IN A BATTLE AND I'M ANGRY/SCARED/EXCITED/ACTING DIFFERENT THAN MY NORMAL BECAUSE THIS IS CLEARLY NOT A NORMAL SITUATION FOR ME." to get out of the way. And the second post is to get a good idea of what kind of character he/she/it is. (This is a guideline, not a rule). Once you think you have a good feel for that character, role with it! Write for every character! Explore what they would do, and how they would react. If you're not sure, ask that character's author! Generally though, you should write for the character you submitted more than the other (This is a guideline, not a rule).
Oh and don't do anything permanently damaging to a character without that character's author's permission (This is rule, not a guideline).
- Posts under 200 words are too short! Any shorter than that and I'll start to dock you points in my judging-mind-jug. Conversely, if you write fantastic 200 word posts, you could easily see yourself reaching all-stars. (Okay they would have to be really good. Generally 500 - 1500 words is solid post length. Over 8000 is prooooobably too much but in the words of Pinary: "Having too many words in a Grand Battle is like having too much money. Sure, there are a few issues that can crop up here and there, but all in all, more is better.")
- Keep all non-story posts in spoilers. Spoilers can also contain story posts too though.
- If you have any questions/problems/concerns PM me. This is the most important point.
- Have fun! This is also the most important point.
I may add to this list as things come up. You will be notified.
Now that you are all sufficiently well read and clearly excited. Here is your character sheet. Fill this out and watch the magic happen!
Player List:
1. Mr Guy - Nempelio Poran kala-Sun - (#00C957)
2. Ixcaliber - Vera Hawthorne/Alice Mason - (Darkred/Blue on Plum)
3. Pinary - Olivia Reindana - (#008000)
4. ch00_bakka - Fiorella Gucci - (#FF88FF)
5. Aryogaton - Malus mancinella - (Italic #118833)
6. Jacquerel - Alluvion - (Bold Royal Blue)
7. engineclock - Adelaide Margaret Sheats - (#77978A)
8. A Killer Cuppa Tea - Taelia Omanguard/The Omen - (Red/Red on Black)
“It is an acknowledged fact of a causal reality that every action initiates a consequence. For the majority of actions, the magnitude of the consequence is not far removed from the magnitude of the action. Small actions maintain small consequences. However, the consequences of similar actions may compound upon one another to produce a net consequence of larger magnitude. Thus, a multitude of small actions may maintain a larger consequence. By this principle, should actions of great magnitude compound upon one another, how much greater would their consequence be?”
- The Wordsmith, Erstwhile Origins, Date Unknown.
With a careful purposefulness, Barabbas Poe closed the cover of the leather-bound book and slipped it thoughtfully into a coat pocket. Like a map, it had led him to his destination. Now that he had arrived, it was time to put it away. He stood poised on a precipice of reality, a single outcropping of substance amidst a turbulent void. Had he arrived much sooner, he would have floated calmly through a sea of emptiness. The peace of nothingness would have engulfed him in perpetual stillness, leaving him with nothing but thoughts of his foolishness.
Instead, he had arrived on time, in a place where time should not be. Though there was no wind, no gravity, no suction, Barabbas still felt forces blasting against him, sometimes pulling, sometimes repelling. Where there was no light, something sparked and glowed - the center of this storm of nothingness. He watched it from a distance, aware of its significance, but fearful of its consequence.
He was a wrinkled man with a somber face. He was bald, save for two tufts of gray hair jutting out above either ear. His eyes reflected a reluctant determination. He wore a simple suit, a black vest with matching slacks, tie, and coat. He was not bound to the formal-wear, but he preferred it. Formality was second nature to him. Filled with unspoken rules and expected duties, etiquette was something Barabbas understood, even relished in when the time was right. Of course, this was not the time.
Time was another thing he understood, an adamant rule which could be bent in the right places. Barabbas was old, and he had been old for a long while. Unlike most humans, Barabbas had not grown old, but rather he had been sentenced to it. In the very center of the back of his head, a black mark rested, branded on his scalp. From this point, thick dark lines spread out along the contours of his body. The suit covered most of them. The markings were a symbol, a remnant of a memento he had received from something long forgotten. The tattoos kept him both aged and ageless, allowed him to survive for eons, waiting and fearing terrors long past. Yet now, through time’s forgetfulness, they threatened to resurface.
The Multiverse, that domain of the Grandmasters, had been folded upon itself, ripped apart, reformed, reconstructed too many times in too similar ways. The Grand Battles, as they were called, demanded the intermingling of persons and places that would never meet by natural order. The fabric of that stronghold of realities could only bear so much before it reacted. Were it a continent, it would have cracked and fallen into the sea. Were it an ocean, it would have churned and boiled away. Were it a star, it would have collapsed into a lightless point. The Multiverse, however, was far beyond all these things. It was a container and connector, a birthplace and a graveyard, a home to nothing and everything, and so, when pressed, it chose not to dissolve or dismantle, but to create.
Barabbas doubted the Grandmasters could have predicted this occurrence. They were too absorbed in their own “omnipotence” to fathom the unintended consequences of their actions. Even those few able to look beyond their petty power struggles could not have guessed the outcome. There was no precedent, at least, none known by them.
Barabbas himself would have been taken by surprise were it not for the book in his possession. He had recovered it while searching for a different text, one whose prophecy promised relief from a fear that plagued him. His book, however, was not prophetic. It was one of four, so its author claimed, that never ventured beyond the realm of history, though it was a history the author had not been privy to. It spoke of the creation of a force that was born from the carelessness of those with too much power. Its pages provided details and discussions surrounding a catastrophe it never named, yet Barabbas could not stifle the discomfort that the story summoned.
It had been too long ago, he supposed. The details of his past prior to finding the book blurred into an unwanted memory, a feeling of unease that grew into fear and terror when dwelt on for too long. He recalled fleeing, struggling, escaping. All that remained were negative emotions that Barabbas knew would challenge his sanity should he strive to uncover their source.
Those emotions were powerful motivators. Not that Barabbas was driven by fear, were that the case he would not have traveled here, but when circumstances triggered those feelings, or memory of a feeling, Barabbas could not help but seek a connection. When he learned of the Director’s Grand Battle, that uneasiness arose. When he learned The Observer was to repeat it, that feeling compounded. As the battles multiplied, Barabbas began to note the similarities between present events and the histories found within the book.
Perhaps, he had thought, he could do something to prevent this unintended disaster. He soon realized that was not to be his role. His abilities were not those that could interfere with the whims of the Grandmasters. Their actions, intentional or otherwise, were part of a inexorable ritual. This was something else Barabbas understood, the pattern and procedure of an invocation, the rules which guided the proper recipe for a summoning. With the pieces laid out, Barabbas could see their destination. He could tell who would preform which parts of the ceremony, where the critical events would occur, and what someone must do to complete it.
But he could not stop it. Barabbas was not a rule-breaker, nor was he a rule-creator. His nature was such that he could see and understand the critical rules governing this rite, but in doing so he must follow them. There were rules, however, that were not critical, rules that could be enforced or ignored if needed. Rules which would not change the ritual, but that could change the nature of its result. Thus he found the role set out for him, not that of a saboteur, but that of an arbiter.
He had considered taking on a title change at the realization, but the “The” had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
So he stood, watching The Multiverse in the moment of conception. The Grandmasters had planted the seeds of their power through their repeated ritual. Again and again bending the cosmos to their pleasure. What it would create, was yet unknown. There was one last ritual to perform. The rules dictated it. How that rite proceeded, Barabbas knew, would determine what that entity would become. Like its fathers, it would reach out into the vastness of The Multiverse and select eight sacrifices, eight combatants, and sentence them to die in worlds far-flung.
--------------------
In the center of the tempest, The Unborn shuddered.
--------------------
Welcome to the seventh Grand Battle in Season 3 (and the last one where you don't have to submit a villain)! Looks like our eclectic group of Grandmasters has gone and knocked up The Multiverse! DAAAAAAAAAANG. Well "like father like unformed anomalous entity", The Unborn is plucking 8 contestants out of the cosmos to watch them fight to the death, and you guys get to decide what sort of characters it dredges up from the plethora of worlds available to it.
Now if you're not familiar with what this is exactly - GREAT! - We're glad to have you! Take a seat, read a bit, fill out a character sheet and see what happens! Maybe check out some Historical Sites to see just what you've stumbled upon!
Now, while you're doing that, allow me to give a summary of my own!
As I said, the Wretched Rite is a Grand Battle, a cohesive collaboration and contest between eight participants, one Grandmaster (this guy!), and whoever else manages to stick their head in there. To enter, each participant submits a character of their own design. Depending on the number of entrants there would be a brief selection process, and the Battle begins!
Each round of the battle consists of an intro post by me, and then lots of posts by the participants, each one adding to the characters, progressing the plot, and touting your writing skills. After a suitable number of posts and a suitable climactic plot point, I will solemnly select a participant whose writing, although grand, doesn't make the cut compared to the rest, and that writer will have the opportunity to type up one final post as their character dies and the remaining combatants go on to the next round.
Seven rounds, Eight contestants, One Winner.
(of course that winner then goes on to the "Season 3 All-star round" so fun! (for you not the character))
Now a couple of key points:
- When you want to make a post. Make a "RESERVE" post first (No stacking reserves). Now I completely understand that sometimes is takes a while to craft a decent post, and that life can often get in the way. A normal "RESERVE" lasts for 3 hours. If circumstances arise though, I may allow a "LONG RESERVE". A long reserve can last for several days, but I will require constant updates on what you have, what progress you've made, and when you think you can get things done. Keep in mind that if the game is going at a quick pace, I may deny a long reserve outright. (but maybe not!) Basically, if you think it's going to take more than 3 hours to submit your post - PM me and let me know.
- Be aware and accepting of what other players are writing. This means two things: avoid stepping on other author's toes by overtly derailing obvious laid out plans (unless I say it's okay), and don't complain when someone writes something that forces you to change the plans you have made (unless I say it wasn't okay). From my experience, plans and plots that change because of other people's writing are almost always better than the original plots.
- Along with the previous point, working together is completely allowed and encouraged. This is as much a collaboration as it is a contest. (and even moreso a challenge to improve your writing). However it is also as much of a contest as it is a collaboration, if you want to go lone rider into this (as most people do) go for it! Show off your stuff!
- This is a commitment. I hate to scare potential players away, but in a collaboration like this, dropping out is extremely problematic. If you don't think you can see this through to the end - don't join.
- Use - don't abuse! Other people's characters that is. Generally, try to wait for an author to use their character in 2 posts before overtly directing it. The first post is to allow the "BUHHHH? I'M IN A BATTLE AND I'M ANGRY/SCARED/EXCITED/ACTING DIFFERENT THAN MY NORMAL BECAUSE THIS IS CLEARLY NOT A NORMAL SITUATION FOR ME." to get out of the way. And the second post is to get a good idea of what kind of character he/she/it is. (This is a guideline, not a rule). Once you think you have a good feel for that character, role with it! Write for every character! Explore what they would do, and how they would react. If you're not sure, ask that character's author! Generally though, you should write for the character you submitted more than the other (This is a guideline, not a rule).
Oh and don't do anything permanently damaging to a character without that character's author's permission (This is rule, not a guideline).
- Posts under 200 words are too short! Any shorter than that and I'll start to dock you points in my judging-mind-jug. Conversely, if you write fantastic 200 word posts, you could easily see yourself reaching all-stars. (Okay they would have to be really good. Generally 500 - 1500 words is solid post length. Over 8000 is prooooobably too much but in the words of Pinary: "Having too many words in a Grand Battle is like having too much money. Sure, there are a few issues that can crop up here and there, but all in all, more is better.")
- Keep all non-story posts in spoilers. Spoilers can also contain story posts too though.
- If you have any questions/problems/concerns PM me. This is the most important point.
- Have fun! This is also the most important point.
I may add to this list as things come up. You will be notified.
Now that you are all sufficiently well read and clearly excited. Here is your character sheet. Fill this out and watch the magic happen!
Character Entry Form Wrote:Username: Whoooooo are you? Who-Who? Who-Who?Edit: Round one should begin on the 9th or 10th.
Name: The name of the character you're submitting.
Gender: Male or Female. If N/A, why?
Race: Your character's species. If it's human, toss in a qualifier like "swordsman" or "karmist". If it's not human, oooooh how exciting!
Color: Designate a color to distinguish your posts. Some people also use it to distinguish characters in dialogue. (I don't but I won't count it against you.) Colors that you can't read without highlighting aren't allowed. (Toss in a background if needed). I call dibs on "DarkSlateBlue".
Weapons/Abilities: How does your character fight? What traits or tools do they possess that help them hold their own?
Description: As Dragon Fogel put it: "Here we want a physical description of your character, as well as an outline of their personality. This is important in helping other characters figure out how to work with yours."
Biography: What is your character's backstory? What was their life/existence like? This can also be a chance to show off some of your writing. Seeing how I can only choose 8 entrants, an extra something can only help!
Question: Your character may be given a chance to speak with Barabbas prior to the first round. If this happens, what would they ask him?
Player List:
1. Mr Guy - Nempelio Poran kala-Sun - (#00C957)
2. Ixcaliber - Vera Hawthorne/Alice Mason - (Darkred/Blue on Plum)
3. Pinary - Olivia Reindana - (#008000)
4. ch00_bakka - Fiorella Gucci - (#FF88FF)
5. Aryogaton - Malus mancinella - (Italic #118833)
6. Jacquerel - Alluvion - (Bold Royal Blue)
7. engineclock - Adelaide Margaret Sheats - (#77978A)
8. A Killer Cuppa Tea - Taelia Omanguard/The Omen - (Red/Red on Black)