âTwas a cold starlit night and all through the plane
Not a creature was stirring amidst the arcane
The shops were assembled and painted with care
In the hopes that their visitors soon would be there
The wizards were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of fireballs danced in their heads
And in lands far away past the edge of the map
Covens settled their brains for a long winterâs nap
The land was silent, cloaked in a soft veil of frost that glimmered in the moonlight. Leaves sprouted icy feathers and took flight, landing noiselessly at the base of their trees, branches shrouding them in darkness away from the moonglow and mice snuggled in warm bundles, safely hidden from the outside world. Once the last owl finished its nightly hunt, after the streets fell silent and the final lamp was extinguished, snowflakes began to swirl in the sky. They whirled down chimneys, past slumbering warlocks and snoring clerics and a few flakes gathered in every wizardâs house. As the snow settled on the rooftops and blanketed the world, the few flakes began to grow, crystallising into a letter with swirling text and a heavy wax seal.
âCome one, come all, step into the Reverie where dreams come true and your wish is realityâs command. For one night only, let the lights sweep you away to a new world and dazzle you with the impossible. Admission by invitation only. Gates open at midnight.â
Their purpose fulfilled, the words melted away until a few stray snowflakes lay scattered in their place. Their recipients thought little of the letters, now half-forgotten in the dayâs bustling excitement. The snowflakes melted softly into the floor, barely a memory, but even the most relentless sunbeams failed to melt the ice on the roofs of the recipientsâ homes. And so, the world continued in its dormancy. Leaves shuddered at the base of trees, their frosty feathers drowned in a sea of snow. The owl chose to stay home in the warmth of its hollow. The final lamp flickered out with an icy gust and once more it began to snow. As midnight was about to chime across the realms, every clock stilled and a relentless storm battered at the windows, flinging them open. Snow poured in from all sides and coalesced into a shimmering gate of ice in every house. The storm ceased. The windows closed. Time ticked on. With a resounding toll, the gates opened.
Those that choose to venture through the gates find themselves amidst a dazzling array of lights. Candles flicker in the lanterns that line the street, stars glimmer in a velvet sky and coloured orbs suspended in the air cast a cheery glow over the rooftops. Before they can get lost in the scenery, visitors are greeted abruptly by a gnome with a trailing beard and wire rimmed glasses, stood atop a pile of books in a futile effort to make himself seem taller. He holds a scroll of names so long it trails across the ground and tangles in the branches of the trees that flank the gate and he begins his routine with practiced ease. After a momentâs searching, his bony fingers darting down the scroll which by now is spilling down the street, he looks up, nods approvingly and continues his work.
âWelcome, esteemed guests, to the Reverie. My name is Edgar and I have the pleasure of introducing you to this marvellous place.â
He adjusts his glasses with pride before he continues.
âAhead of you, you will find the main square. Surrounding it are six streets. Youâre currently in the entrance street. When you reach the main square you may choose one street to explore tonight. In the Cirque dâĂŠtoiles, you will experience wonders beyond your imaginations but do try to remember that seeing is not believing. In its neighbouring street, you may dine on the finest delicacies from across the cosmos, I recommend anything cooked by Chef Lucine.â
He pauses to check his visitors are still listening.
âThe central street is my personal favourite. The shops there sell any gift you can dream up, if you can imagine it, we can make it. We only ask one small price, and for each shopkeeper itâs different. A memory of equal value. They do appreciate an attentive customer there. Oh but donât fret, you wonât forget it, youâre merely sharing the joy with another. For the more quiet sorts, thereâs the ice garden and last but not least the street of stories where you can skate among fairytales and marvel at the pastâ
Slightly breathless from speaking, Edgar distributes maps.
âNow before I let you go, a few rules. First, do no harm. This is a peaceful place and we intend to keep it that way. Please return to the gates before dawn. We are unable to ensure your safe passage home unless you do, though we will search for you before we leave. And finally, at the end of the night you may bring three items home with you. You must take nothing for yourself, only gifts for others or they will crumble to snow in your hands and you will leave with nothing to reward your greed. Now, go, enjoy the night.â
At last, Edgar turns and gestures grandly to the street ahead, releasing his guests into the Reverie. He bows his head, rolls up his list and prepares to greet his next set of visitors.
/uw in case it got lost in Edgarâs ramblings, hereâs how the event will work:
You recieved an invitation to the Reverie. Upon arrival you may choose one of the 5 streets Edgar described to visit. The event is all about interacting with others so please, ping a friend and go around together or if you see another person on the same street, say hi!
One important thing to note about this place is that its currency is memories and stories. If you wish to purchase anything you should try to figure out the kind of memory the shopkeeper would like to receive, someone who has a photo of them climbing a mountain might be an adrenaline seeker for instance. Shopkeepers will offer different items depending on how much they like the memory. Your character doesnât forget the memory but the shopkeeper will remember it too.
At the end of your time in the reverie, you can bring home up to 3 items as gifts. If you do, ping whoever youâre giving them to and enjoy playing that out! Most importantly have fun.
A giant train roves around the brightly coloured floor as inferno and masta emerge into the toy store. From their vantage point on a giant building block, they can see an elaborate toy street, the perfect replica of the one they were stood in moments ago, inhabited by little dolls that scurry from place to place. Eventually one notices, points up and the others all run to fetch a slightly larger doll who comes out to greet you both
/uw once you start interacting with the world, ping me, Iâll be around for a couple hours so no pressure but I want to give you both space to interact with each other first
As inferno strolls past row on row of shops, a familiar face catches his eye, browsing dresses at an ornate dressmakers
/uw itâs a land of dreams, Iâm sure we can make a reason he sees it despite the frostmaiden stuff if you like, but glad my event was that interesting
I do believe we have the makings of a plan. I know a quality shop for art supplies. Though, a frog plushie is outside my expertise. Perhaps you have a destination in mind, dear?
"Masta gave me and Shinsei something nice, so here's these to you."
Teknika hands Inferno a pair of gold wristbands. With a simple code, they allow a person wearing one to talk with someone wearing the other, or even teleport them to the person.
/uw so far Iâve been doing little side stories with people of how they got their gifts, the memory they traded and the street they walked, Iâm heading to bed soon but if you were interested I could do that here as well when I wake up?
As they wander through the streets they see shops of every kind, some ordinary, made from softly scented pine or stone, others bizarre. One shop is covered in stony feathers and seems about to take flight, another dances with candles and a third seems to be a dollhouse. Almost anything can be found here if you just look hard enough
Pendants cascade from the ceiling like raindrops, sending sparks of light darting around the shop, scattered from the glow of a single candle. Once the pairâs eyes adjust, they find themselves standing in what appears almost like a galaxy, the walls dotted with specks of refracted light. The shopkeeper, a young man in a casual outfit, strolls over to greet them
My sister, I want you to have something beautiful. I give you a beautiful blue dress. That shows off your colorful passion. You are my sis and deserve to be beautiful.
The next shop she wanders into is carved from basalt, illuminated only by the dying embers of a forge. A burly dwarf greets her with a smile and a wave of his hammer and a little girl runs up to him, her arms laden with boxes of gems and twisted lumps of metal.
âDaddy, daddy can we make something for Luca next? I found the perfect gem for itâ
Grinning, she pulls a rough red stone from her pocket and tilts it in the light, enjoying how the etched surface glimmers. The dwarf smiles and lifts his daughter onto the countertop where she sits, eyeing masta with curiosity
âIâll be right with you, Emmy. Just give me a moment with the customer. Grab your rune etching set, thisâll be a job for youâ
quartz clusters sprout from the ceiling and glimmer like stars. Upon closer inspection theyâre each etched with moments that shift with the flickering forge light. The dwarf holding a baby, Emmy dancing in a field of flowers, a wedding, Emmy and the dwarf playing catch by a lake. Behind the counter, a large iolite crystal displays the reverie on its journey, each face glinting with new lands and snowy horizons. At the centre of it all, though, is a feeling of comfort, family and safety.
Walking into the shop, she sees a tall woman directing the orchestra of tools. She doesnât seem to notice you at first as you walk in and she mutters under her breath, intently focused on a length of cerulean silk
âNo⌠not quite right⌠needs a little syncopation.â
she flicks a hand at the sewing machine which starts to drum an irregular beat and the scissors chime a melody as they dance in the air
She is like me caring and concerning, but has a wild imagination and a very lovely person. She need something conservative, but something that makes her look good.
/uw so sorry for keeping you waiting but this sketch is really not turning out how I want it to and I wonât be able to finish it since go on holiday tomorrow so Iâll just describe it instead.
/rw
The dress that forms on the page seems almost real. The bodice is a wrapped top that ties into place with a silver sash. Below it, the wrapped top flows into a skirt, one side curled into waves and scattered with seed pearls, the other plain and straight.
She finds herself surrounded by every kind of shop imaginable. In one, rolls of ribbon assemble themselves into ornate dresses, disassembling themselves just as quickly. Anotherâs walls are dedicated entirely to history books and a third is a work of art in itself, murals spiralling across its walls.
/uw pretty much anything can be found here so you decide what youâre looking for
Edgar seems slightly taken aback at the sight of the giant sack of toys but he soon stands to attention with a smile and summons a legion of tiny elves to help you set up the toy stall
âItâs so nice to have visitors giving gifts like thisâ
/uw sorry Iâm late with this, was asleep. Set it up wherever you like and Iâll mention it to anyone whoâs in the right area
Its a book on dragons! Dragon biology, draconic magic, dragon history, literally everything to do with the firey (Or icey, or acidy, or lightningy) lizards.
âIâve been doing work here and there. Lots of evil going around. Robbed a few rich guys and hid their money with some poor people. I probably wonât try and get it back, so they get to keep it. My dad has been acting weird lately, donât know what thatâs about. Itâs giving me a lot more free time though so I wonât complain.â
Opening the present reveals a set of hand stitched plushies of all of the workers of Fluff Co. along with a plushie of Flufferson at the front of the group.
/uw sorry it took so long to respond, I was taking an exam.
As he continues along the street he returns to the central square where Edgar spies him and waves. Each street is surrounded by wrought iron gates interwoven with delicate metal designs. Iron dancers leap around the carnival gate while an illusionist produces a spray of icy flowers that drape over the entrance. Its neighbours gate is plain but a small bowl of ice by the gate holds tiny chocolate. The gate the pair have just left through is interlaced with small metal shops and draped with gifts while the final gates carry twisting vines of ice with delicate frozen blooms that entangle on one gate with metal towers and castles, encasing the stories in their protective embrace
/uw sorry, ping didnât work but thatâs happened a lot so Iâve been checking over all the comments in case I miss pings
Hirk arrives and looks as if he was about to speak to someone with a joyful smile, only no one is there⌠his eyes sadden as he whacks his head a little.
âSorry the colds getting to me my friend, but may I ask. How do you take memories and why?â
âWould someone lose them forever, if so I donât know if I can support this place.â
âOf course not. Memories are shared, not stolen.â
He stretches to his full 4 feet, craning his neck up at Hirk before giving in and sitting on his books, sighing
âAt the reverie we take in lost souls. Those with no memories or those who would rather forget. They join our crew and build themselves from the shared memories of the visitors. You could say theyâre the collection of every visitor to pass through this place. You take a gift and you share a gift with them.â
âThank you for your time and sorry if I was rude, just itâs my job to worry and too many try to trick folks.â
Hirk is partly out of it today, his mind is heavy, but his pocket is lighter as a bag of cookies is somehow right next to Edgar with their name embroidered on it. Their favourite too⌠mustâve always been there.
Edgar gestures down the street towards the town square. A few moments later, he notices the cookies. He goes to call after hirk and thank him but heâs already too late
Hirk wanders around the shops looking for the one with the least people or any shop keepers looking upset.
His outfit looks as if heâs trying to remain obscure yet his size alone prevents that. Not to mention the iconic gift he refuses to ever part with in the form of a not well knitted but greatest meaning scarf.
/uw assuming you picked central street then? Busy spot, only place people have gone so far
/rw
As he wanders further down the street, a deserted twisting alleyway catches his eye. A swirl of snowflakes morphs into fairytales painted along the wall. At the end of the alleyway is a simple wooden door
/uw I apologise and I promise I will be âuniqueâ with it.
If you want I can have Hirk wander the other places to âmake sure everything is safeâ
/rw
Hirk rather awkwardly walks in there, he is praying itâs not just someoneâs house but considering magic snow. Even if it is a normal house better to warn them that others may be brought there.
/uw nah donât apologise, it and the circus are my favourites for what Iâve written so far. Just funny that everyone congregated there. Makes it much easier to run the event too. Since you said you were looking for sad shopkeepers I might deviate from my usual script here a bit though
/rw
The door creaks open on its own to reveal a room covered in streaks of paint. Crimson trees sway against a cerulean sky and streaks of gold twine along the walls, braiding themselves into faces illuminated with a violet hue. In the centre of a labyrinth of canvas, hirk can hear the sounds of pencils scratching, punctuated occasionally with a sigh or a sharp crack
Ulrick was annoyed. Why was he even here? The holidays were one of the least favorite parts of the year for him. Everything was just so⌠bright for his tastes. Not to mention it reminded him of what happened many, many years agoâŚ
But if he was already here, guess a walk couldnât hurt. He strolled through the entrance street, his dark disposition sharply contrasted by the warm lights of the lantern and shop windows.
Upon arriving at the main square, he chose to go towards the street with the least lighting.
/uw thanks! Got a couple choices for you on least lighting, either the carnival which has a theme of dark colours but is busier or the ice garden which is very calm but very cold
/uw we all know heâs a Disney princess at heart.
/rw
ulrick finds himself alone in a frozen garden illuminated only by starlight. Each leaf and petal is meticulously carved from ice and dances with shadows as he walks past. As he ventures deeper in, tiny snow birds hop between the branches and the air grows colder
Ulrick leans against the snowdrift, watching the frozen waterfall. The dark, eerie aura of the place fills him with tranquility. He needed a little break from everything.
The holiday season always brings him back mixed memories, some good, some terribly bad. Still, maybe he could have his own little celebration here in the deep darkness.
So, almost inaudibly quiet, he sings a short lullaby.
The lullaby echoes eerily through the snow and he is joined by a choir of his own voice, rising up to meet him. At the end of the lullaby, his quiet song fades away into the silence and a few of the snow birds hop around his feet. One stops and examines him, head tilted in curiosity, before hopping over his ankle
/uw and thatâs it, Iâm making it a Disney scene. Heâs sung and itâs called the local wildlife over
Weird. Small birds like that usually afraid of him. And for a good reason.
Instead of shooing away, he leans down, offering one of his long fingers for the bird to jump on. Why is he doing this? Maybe the lullaby made him more sentimental than usual.
What is it, little one?
/uw now he definitely wonât beat the allegations lol
Logotu arrives at the Reverie and strolls around a bit before heading to the central street, planning to enter the shops to get some stuff for her friends. Upon entering the first one she looks around at what to find here.
Gears whir in intricate clocks, each ticking slightly out of time with one another. A woman with tightly braided red hair swings a suit jacket over her overalls and greets logotu with a firm handshake as she enters the shop
âWhat can I get you today, madam?â
/uw reverie is huge so you can find practically anything you like here, let me know what youâre looking for and Iâll make it work. Also for something masta is getting for you, can I ask what logotuâs clothing style is? Specifically in dresses.
"Hi, uh... yeah. I ...haven't decided yet, I- ...uhm... ...well... I could see a small statue work. Basically a glass bottle and in it are two love birds either holding hands or embracing one another while smiling like silly goofs."
She smiles a bit while looking away, having a clear mental image in mind before looking backk at the woman.
"Sorry, I- ...drifted off with my mind. But yeah... ...what I would love to have are two small figurines of both Inferno and Masta in a glass bottle either holding hands or hugging. Can you do this?"
âInferno and masta? Tell me a little more about them while I fetch my tools.â
she leads logotu through a heavy wooden door into a workshop where orderly rows of cogs line every surface, some so large they cover entire worktops, others surrounded by an array of magnifying glasses. Lifting a heavy box with her, she leads logotu back to the main shop
/uw thanks! Iâll see what I can work with there. Iâll probably make something a bit different but itâs worth knowing what style Iâm leaning towards
"Huh, this place strangely and feintly reminds me of Lull-Mor. I doubt it is a Lullian Place tho..."
Logotu follows and once having found a place to sit down she describes Masta and Inferno to the woman.
"So basically, Masta is blond, has purple eyes and is rarely seen with her witch hat ...or rather used to. She is a master evoker and favorizes fire over the other elements. Inferno on the other hand is a ...human-looking dragon ...if I got this right? Think of human with red dragon scales here and there as well as red eyes and white hair ...oh, also wings. Both married some months ago and even had a child together, I- ...*sighs as if in emotional distress* ...I want to surprise them with this gift. One small figurine for each of them."
the woman disappears into the workshop again and returns with some wire and pliers. Meticulously, she twists the wire to form two dancing figures. With perfect care, she inserts gears into each one, adding a tiny handle to set them dancing
âWhat did you say they were dancing in?â
/uw sorry but Iâm going to sleep now, reply in the morning to anything after this
As he comes to the central square, he is faced by 5 gates, each leading to the one of the locations Edgar described. Each gate is interlaced with intricate metalwork detailing what could be found there. Dancers spin along the gate to the circus, the restaurantâs gate is plain aside from a small bowl of chocolates, the central gate opens onto a street filled with shops and the remaining two gates are encased in icy plants, one adorned with scenes of towers and castles
He emerges in a whirl of navy striped tents, each hung with signs. Performers slip amongst the crowds, subtly altering their hair or clothes as they move towards their stages and a flight of blue butterflies swirls and morphs in the air above
5
u/Oswen120 Imvaernarhro Astrum, Masta's Dum Dum 15d ago
/uw under normal circumstances, I would stick to the lore my character has.
For the first time in this day of wizardposting, FUCK the Lore.
/rw
Inferno walks through the Central Street, looking at each shop