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The Hollow Harvest
An Autumn gathering beneath the turning of the wheel. There are certain places that only exist when the year begins to turn. Places that glimmer between planes and senses, that only gather beneath the harvest moon where lanterns burn long after dusk and the air is heavy with woodsmoke and sweets. Welcome to The Hollow Harvest.
Once every Autumn, at the edge of the familiar world, a fairground appears among the fields. Its paths are straw-lain and lined with golden lanterns, with stalls draped in patchwork plaid, cross-stitch and old lace. Music floats down upon the entire scene before you, though no musician can ever be found. Presiding over it all are three women.
Three peculiar women.
They are difficult to describe, harder still to distinguish. At first. They are sisters, or so they claim, though one might believe it with the way they bicker and giggle together beneath their dark hoods. They have been welcoming visitors to the fair for as long as anyone can remember, gracious and inviting, if not a little eccentric.
As you approach the stall where the three woman are currently fussing over, they go quiet for a moment before turning their hooded gaze to you.
“Oh, look. We have visitors.”
“How lovely. Although...I wish they dressed up a little more for the occasion.”
“They've come as they are, sister. We mustn't be unkind.”
"Hush, both of you.”
One of the three women steps forward, long, slender fingers coming together at her waist. Behind her, her sisters share a glance; one is bright-eyed with amusement, while the other scowls in disapproval. They are dressed identically; draped in long, black gowns of silk so smooth it rippled like the surface of a stream at midnight, glimmering faintly with starlight.
“There are certain places that only exist when the year begins to turn," the first woman continues, tilting her head slightly like she's listening for something. "Places that glimmer between planes and senses, that only gather beneath the harvest moon where lanterns burn long after dusk and the air is heavy with woodsmoke and sweets."
Her hands open to you; the dark markings covering them stark atop her pale skin.
"Welcome to The Hollow Harvest”
“Our little autumn gathering,” one sister adds, tone high with excitement.
“Not so little,” says the other, “Not anymore.”
The one in front of you continues, seemingly accustomed to such interruptions.
"This is a place for wandering, for merriment, for discovering things you might not otherwise have found.”
“Or things that might not want to be found,” hisses one of her sisters, making a leering gesture.
“Oh, don't you start.”
“I haven't started anything!”
“You never do, until it's far too late.”
The two stifle giggles behind their similarly tattooed hands.
“There is much to see, partake in, and enjoy. We have taken great care with the arrangements this year, and we do hope you'll make yourselves comfortable.”
“Not too comfortable. Some guests do have a dreadful habit of overstaying.”
“Oooh, but I like the ones that stay!”
“Ladies.”
The eldest woman turns her attention back to you.
“Allow us to show you around, dear guest. We have set this little festival up to be enjoyed in a particular order. Browse the stalls, purchase some liberations, and step into the corn maze as you feel like it." She pointed to the where the rows upon rows of corn open up to accept visitors. Towering stalks stretch out further than you can see, its narrow paths winding between them. Lanterns line the entrance, warm and inviting, but the deeper you venture within, the less certain the way becomes. The corn whisper amongst each other, leaves brushing together as they sway beneath a breeze you can't feel. What treasures could be hidden within? What surprises around the next corner? Outside the entrance stands a scarecrow holding a sign that simple states the rules:
An Autumn gathering beneath the turning of the wheel. There are certain places that only exist when the year begins to turn. Places that glimmer between planes and senses, that only gather beneath the harvest moon where lanterns burn long after dusk and the air is heavy with woodsmoke and sweets. Welcome to The Hollow Harvest.
Once every Autumn, at the edge of the familiar world, a fairground appears among the fields. Its paths are straw-lain and lined with golden lanterns, with stalls draped in patchwork plaid, cross-stitch and old lace. Music floats down upon the entire scene before you, though no musician can ever be found. Presiding over it all are three women.
Three peculiar women.
They are difficult to describe, harder still to distinguish. At first. They are sisters, or so they claim, though one might believe it with the way they bicker and giggle together beneath their dark hoods. They have been welcoming visitors to the fair for as long as anyone can remember, gracious and inviting, if not a little eccentric.
As you approach the stall where the three woman are currently fussing over, they go quiet for a moment before turning their hooded gaze to you.
“Oh, look. We have visitors.”
“How lovely. Although...I wish they dressed up a little more for the occasion.”
“They've come as they are, sister. We mustn't be unkind.”
"Hush, both of you.”
One of the three women steps forward, long, slender fingers coming together at her waist. Behind her, her sisters share a glance; one is bright-eyed with amusement, while the other scowls in disapproval. They are dressed identically; draped in long, black gowns of silk so smooth it rippled like the surface of a stream at midnight, glimmering faintly with starlight.
“There are certain places that only exist when the year begins to turn," the first woman continues, tilting her head slightly like she's listening for something. "Places that glimmer between planes and senses, that only gather beneath the harvest moon where lanterns burn long after dusk and the air is heavy with woodsmoke and sweets."
Her hands open to you; the dark markings covering them stark atop her pale skin.
"Welcome to The Hollow Harvest”
“Our little autumn gathering,” one sister adds, tone high with excitement.
“Not so little,” says the other, “Not anymore.”
The one in front of you continues, seemingly accustomed to such interruptions.
"This is a place for wandering, for merriment, for discovering things you might not otherwise have found.”
“Or things that might not want to be found,” hisses one of her sisters, making a leering gesture.
“Oh, don't you start.”
“I haven't started anything!”
“You never do, until it's far too late.”
The two stifle giggles behind their similarly tattooed hands.
“There is much to see, partake in, and enjoy. We have taken great care with the arrangements this year, and we do hope you'll make yourselves comfortable.”
“Not too comfortable. Some guests do have a dreadful habit of overstaying.”
“Oooh, but I like the ones that stay!”
“Ladies.”
The eldest woman turns her attention back to you.
“Allow us to show you around, dear guest. We have set this little festival up to be enjoyed in a particular order. Browse the stalls, purchase some liberations, and step into the corn maze as you feel like it." She pointed to the where the rows upon rows of corn open up to accept visitors. Towering stalks stretch out further than you can see, its narrow paths winding between them. Lanterns line the entrance, warm and inviting, but the deeper you venture within, the less certain the way becomes. The corn whisper amongst each other, leaves brushing together as they sway beneath a breeze you can't feel. What treasures could be hidden within? What surprises around the next corner? Outside the entrance stands a scarecrow holding a sign that simple states the rules:
- Do not run through the stalks. We cannot guarantee the safety of your limbs or head.
- If you meet anyone inside, be friendly. We hate rude guests.
- If you cannot find your way, follow your instincts. They are probably right...unless they are wrong then we cannot help you
- Do not take anything off the stalks. They do not like that.
Once you had a chance to review the rules, the ladies began to speak again.
"My favorite, by far."
"One must keep one's wits about them in there.”
“And one's sense of direction!”
“The signs are perfectly clear.”
“...They weren't yesterday.”
The first woman gives her sisters a look before continuing. “Take care amongst the stalks, dear guest. Not all is what it seems, and not every peculiarity worth the consequences of investigating. A voice in the corn, a misplaced sign, or perhaps a fellow traveler. Do try not to lose your way entirely. We should hate to have to come looking for you.”
So dear guest, do you browse to your heart's content or enter the corn maze without further question?
"My favorite, by far."
"One must keep one's wits about them in there.”
“And one's sense of direction!”
“The signs are perfectly clear.”
“...They weren't yesterday.”
The first woman gives her sisters a look before continuing. “Take care amongst the stalks, dear guest. Not all is what it seems, and not every peculiarity worth the consequences of investigating. A voice in the corn, a misplaced sign, or perhaps a fellow traveler. Do try not to lose your way entirely. We should hate to have to come looking for you.”
So dear guest, do you browse to your heart's content or enter the corn maze without further question?
Welcome to the November Event! This is an interactive, text-based roleplay. You can choose to participate as a characters or as yourself. The event takes place across four stages, with each stage open for approximately one week:
Week One: The Corn Maze
Each stage is designed to last approximately three player posts, though your host may hurry you along if the evening grows too long or eventful. And do not fret, if you join later, you may just find yourself in a new area.
You are encouraged to:
- explore
- ask questions
- investigate strange occurrences
- interact with the environment
- make decisions as your character would
You may discover clues, encounter spirits, acquire unusual objects, or stumble into situations that only you encounter.
Additional details:
- Your host will respond to your actions and help move the story forward
- You don't need to solve every mystery or discover every clue to participate successfully
- There are multiple ways to uncover the truth, and not every guest will experience the fair in exactly the same way
Have fun! Be nosy! And don't forget that fate always wins.
ehehe...