RE: The Fearsome Encounter (GBS3G8) [Round 3: Ark of Hope]
12-10-2013, 06:13 AM
When the contestants reappeared in their rings, facing the Controller's chair, things were a bit different. The last time they were there, the pocket dimension had had a very careful and deliberate look. There was the flat, steel floor that stretched out into pitch-black shadow, the nine golden rings embedded into the floor's surface, the big, dramatic chair that sat at the focal point of the rings' arc, and nothing else. It was a cold, minimalistic setup that the Controller had very carefully designed to instil a particular notion into the contestants' minds: that the person they were dealing with was a harsh and meticulous individual.
This time, though, things had changed. Intermingled with the identical bunches of cable that stretched up from the chair into the darkness above, there was now also a peppering of other cables, an assortment of wires of varying types and colours. Some of the screens surrounding the seat had been taken down and strewn carelessly on the ground nearby, wires haphazardly disconnected and, in places, severed altogether. There were several new machines sitting next to the whole arrangement, ugly, jerry-rigged things with flashing lights and loud, grinding components, each wired into the main chair by a morass of mismatched cabling. There were smells, too, the stink of solder and burnt electronics making things none too pleasant for the contestants with noses.
In the middle of it all, the Apprentice sat, glaring down at the contestants with disapproval written all over his face.
"So," he snapped. "Let's see. Which of you managed to obtain your designated item?" He made a show of glancing down at a piece of paper, then at each contestant in turn. "No, no, no, no... Why, if I'm not mistaken... not a single worthless one of you managed to get me what I need!"
Redclaw glared at him. He'd had the torpedo within his grasp, and it wasn't his fault he hadn't been given a chance to finish the job.
"Not only that," the Apprentice continued, "but the whole task had to be aborted, because one of you was careless enough to get yourself killed!" He glared at the ring that the Encyclopedia had occupied previously. (Viscount's opinion of the Apprentice managed to drop another few pegs. Two contestants had died up in the last round, not one, but apparently the battle's grandmaster couldn't tell the difference between a living humanoid and a thoroughly-pecked corpse.)
"In addition, out of all of you, only four of you still have your coins!" The rings around Augustus and Azungrada, Parliament, Cepra, and Pope Triumphian briefly lit up. "The rest of you, having failed to keep ahold of yours, are going to have to deal with the consequences in this next round."
With that, the Apprentice reached out and flipped the switch responsible for queuing up the next round and displaying a holographic representation to the contestants.
Briefly, an image of an isolated island appeared midair. There was a dock on one shore, with what appeared to be a sunken ship moored at it, and an observatory capped off a hill on one of the island's ends- but before the contestants could really observe anything more, the image suddenly jolted out of existence. There was an electrical-sounding snap somewhere in the knotted wiring surrounding the Controller's chair, and more than half of the screens just went dead.
Cursing, the Apprentice hammered away at a set of controls. After several seconds, one of the screens came back on, and with sharp, angry motions, the Apprentice fiddled with a few dials at its base until a different hologram appeared.
This time, the contestants found themselves looking at a ship.
"This," the Apprentice explained, doing his best to maintain some level of authority in his voice (and not make it obvious he was skimming over a description of the round as he spoke), "is the SS Northern Currents, known better to its inhabitants as the Ark of Hope. A terrible war has devastated this world, leaving the lands entirely uninhabitable. Radiation and fallout should have killed every living thing on the planet.
"Somehow, though, the occupants of this cargo ship have survived. It's not known why the people aboard don't succumb to the fact that the atmosphere itself should be toxic; all anyone does know is that, thus far, every attempt at going ashore has lead to symptoms within minutes and, if they remain off the ship, death within hours."
The Apprentice flipped a switch, and the illusion changed, showing instead the image of a bearded, robe-wearing man.
"Apparently, this man, known solely as Alvarez, is responsible for the survival of everyone aboard the Ark. He purchased the cargo ship from a shipping company months before the war came to an end and spent that time outfitting it for self-sufficiency in complete isolation. Originally, the only people aboard were the cult-like following he'd gathered around himself to assist him in preparing the ship, but when an airplane made a water landing near his ship, he very generously allowed its passengers and crew to come aboard- provided they pledge their allegiance to him and submit to the belief that he is a messenger of the gods, sent to save humanity from destruction at its own hand.
"Bolstering his claims of prophet-hood is this device." The image changed again, this time displaying what appeared to be a golden chest, inscribed with hieroglyphics and symbols. "The 'Ark of the Gods', as Alvarez calls it, is said to open only for those with the power of a deity behind them. No one on the Ark (that is, the Ark of Hope, the ship, not the Ark of the Gods, the magic box) can say for sure what happens when the box is opened, however. Everyone could tell you that Alvarez has opened it before, to be sure. They personally didn't see it, but they're sure they know someone who did."
Finished, the Apprentice leaned back, flicking one more switch to make the image disappear altogether.
"So there you have it," he concluded. "The Ark of Hope, the last vestiges of a whole planet's population." He paused for a moment, not sure what sort of goal he was going to assign. He'd had a big plan for the other place, including goals for everyone to distract themselves with and handicaps for those without their coins, but this other place was, as far as he could tell, just some world the Controller had stored away.
"Impress me," he decided upon, doing his best to make it sound lofty and superior before sending his contestants- including the two corpses- off to various locations aboard the ship.
This time, though, things had changed. Intermingled with the identical bunches of cable that stretched up from the chair into the darkness above, there was now also a peppering of other cables, an assortment of wires of varying types and colours. Some of the screens surrounding the seat had been taken down and strewn carelessly on the ground nearby, wires haphazardly disconnected and, in places, severed altogether. There were several new machines sitting next to the whole arrangement, ugly, jerry-rigged things with flashing lights and loud, grinding components, each wired into the main chair by a morass of mismatched cabling. There were smells, too, the stink of solder and burnt electronics making things none too pleasant for the contestants with noses.
In the middle of it all, the Apprentice sat, glaring down at the contestants with disapproval written all over his face.
"So," he snapped. "Let's see. Which of you managed to obtain your designated item?" He made a show of glancing down at a piece of paper, then at each contestant in turn. "No, no, no, no... Why, if I'm not mistaken... not a single worthless one of you managed to get me what I need!"
Redclaw glared at him. He'd had the torpedo within his grasp, and it wasn't his fault he hadn't been given a chance to finish the job.
"Not only that," the Apprentice continued, "but the whole task had to be aborted, because one of you was careless enough to get yourself killed!" He glared at the ring that the Encyclopedia had occupied previously. (Viscount's opinion of the Apprentice managed to drop another few pegs. Two contestants had died up in the last round, not one, but apparently the battle's grandmaster couldn't tell the difference between a living humanoid and a thoroughly-pecked corpse.)
"In addition, out of all of you, only four of you still have your coins!" The rings around Augustus and Azungrada, Parliament, Cepra, and Pope Triumphian briefly lit up. "The rest of you, having failed to keep ahold of yours, are going to have to deal with the consequences in this next round."
With that, the Apprentice reached out and flipped the switch responsible for queuing up the next round and displaying a holographic representation to the contestants.
Briefly, an image of an isolated island appeared midair. There was a dock on one shore, with what appeared to be a sunken ship moored at it, and an observatory capped off a hill on one of the island's ends- but before the contestants could really observe anything more, the image suddenly jolted out of existence. There was an electrical-sounding snap somewhere in the knotted wiring surrounding the Controller's chair, and more than half of the screens just went dead.
Cursing, the Apprentice hammered away at a set of controls. After several seconds, one of the screens came back on, and with sharp, angry motions, the Apprentice fiddled with a few dials at its base until a different hologram appeared.
This time, the contestants found themselves looking at a ship.
"This," the Apprentice explained, doing his best to maintain some level of authority in his voice (and not make it obvious he was skimming over a description of the round as he spoke), "is the SS Northern Currents, known better to its inhabitants as the Ark of Hope. A terrible war has devastated this world, leaving the lands entirely uninhabitable. Radiation and fallout should have killed every living thing on the planet.
"Somehow, though, the occupants of this cargo ship have survived. It's not known why the people aboard don't succumb to the fact that the atmosphere itself should be toxic; all anyone does know is that, thus far, every attempt at going ashore has lead to symptoms within minutes and, if they remain off the ship, death within hours."
The Apprentice flipped a switch, and the illusion changed, showing instead the image of a bearded, robe-wearing man.
"Apparently, this man, known solely as Alvarez, is responsible for the survival of everyone aboard the Ark. He purchased the cargo ship from a shipping company months before the war came to an end and spent that time outfitting it for self-sufficiency in complete isolation. Originally, the only people aboard were the cult-like following he'd gathered around himself to assist him in preparing the ship, but when an airplane made a water landing near his ship, he very generously allowed its passengers and crew to come aboard- provided they pledge their allegiance to him and submit to the belief that he is a messenger of the gods, sent to save humanity from destruction at its own hand.
"Bolstering his claims of prophet-hood is this device." The image changed again, this time displaying what appeared to be a golden chest, inscribed with hieroglyphics and symbols. "The 'Ark of the Gods', as Alvarez calls it, is said to open only for those with the power of a deity behind them. No one on the Ark (that is, the Ark of Hope, the ship, not the Ark of the Gods, the magic box) can say for sure what happens when the box is opened, however. Everyone could tell you that Alvarez has opened it before, to be sure. They personally didn't see it, but they're sure they know someone who did."
Finished, the Apprentice leaned back, flicking one more switch to make the image disappear altogether.
"So there you have it," he concluded. "The Ark of Hope, the last vestiges of a whole planet's population." He paused for a moment, not sure what sort of goal he was going to assign. He'd had a big plan for the other place, including goals for everyone to distract themselves with and handicaps for those without their coins, but this other place was, as far as he could tell, just some world the Controller had stored away.
"Impress me," he decided upon, doing his best to make it sound lofty and superior before sending his contestants- including the two corpses- off to various locations aboard the ship.